


Stumble Home with Me?

by InErosion



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Adora has big gay, Alcohol, Angst, Awkwardness, Catra's chapters have lots of swearing, College AU, Cuddling, Drunk Adora, Drunk Catra, Dumb Jock Adora, Eventual Sex, F/F, Feelings, Grumpy Catra, Humor, Incredibly explicit language, It'll end well I promise guys, Kissing, Miscommunication, Modern AU, Nerd Catra, Okay it's slow burn, Porn with Feelings, Sexual Tension, Swearing, Tension, Toxic to healthy, catra has a crush, date, mild PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-29
Updated: 2020-08-10
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:40:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 47,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24985477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InErosion/pseuds/InErosion
Summary: Never in her life did Catra ever imagine she would be in this situation. Practically hauling Adora Brightmoon back to her apartment, which is -where,exactly?"Jesus christ. Seriously," Catra swats Adora's hand away yet again. She's insistent on trying to touch her, and it's beyond annoying."Stop it.I need you to tell me where you live."orCatra helps her drunk ex best friend safely find her way home, but faces a few challenges of her own along the way. This might just be the start of something beautiful.
Relationships: Adora/Catra (She-Ra)
Comments: 792
Kudos: 2105





	1. Night

Never in her life did Catra ever imagine she would be in this situation. Practically hauling Adora Brightmoon back to her apartment, which is - _where,_ exactly?

"Jesus christ. Seriously," Catra swats Adora's hand away yet again. She's insistent on trying to touch her, and it's beyond annoying. _"Stop it._ I need you to tell me where you live."

Catra doesn't like Adora, let that be crystal clear. She doesn't like her blonde hair. She doesn't like her laugh. She doesn't like her eyes. Her voice. The skinny jeans she's wearing tonight. The plaid flannel. Some might even say Catra hates her. She hasn't liked her since they fell out their freshman year of college, and still despises her now, during their senior.

 _"Mmhzzz?"_ What does that even mean? 

Adora threatens to slip from Catra's shoulder. "Fuck, Adora-!" She holds onto the drunk woman with all her might, and it takes a solid heave to steady her again. 

Adora doesn't seem to notice at all. "Catraaa-" Hiccup. _"I nnneed to tellll you smghthng."_

"Yeah, your fucking address."

So, why is Catra ensuring that her ex best friend makes it home safely? Why is she half dragging this drunk idiot block after block through the heart of the city of Etheria? Well- well, because she can't _not,_ alright? She couldn't just leave her alone at that party. Not like this. 

Don't ever think Catra saves people, though. Catra doesn't do that kind of stuff. She isn't into saving people, not like Adora likes to. This is just...being a decent person. 

_"Nnoo nnot that…"_ A scary burp. Gross. Please, don't let that be foreshadowing. 

"Yes that. And please, please don't throw up on me. You're on your own if you do." That's not entirely true. It feels nice to say it though. 

The streets are empty, and it’s making Catra nervous.

"Mmm tryingg to sayyy-"

"Address." Catra snaps. _"Now."_

Even in her stupor, little miss idiot seems to get it. Getting it out on the other hand, is a completely different obstacle to overcome. "Ooooohkaaay… Mm… M-...Mysa… I cann’t..."

Mystacor. 

Classic Adora. 

Always rich. Always prissy. Mystacor is the most expensive apartment complex geared towards college students in the whole of Etheria. It’s the kind of place with both an indoor and outdoor pool for its residents, and a personal fitness room in each apartment. Yes - it’s seriously marketed to college students, but only the rich ones.

At least it isn't too far from here, plus it’s in a nicer area of the city. Catra looks over her shoulder.

“Whhat’re yyouu lookinn’ forr?”

“I’m making sure we aren’t being followed.” She growls under her breath. 

“Whhyy wouuld thhat-” Hiccup. “-h-happen?”

“Will you shut up?”

The next few minutes are a tedious battle consisting entirely of Catra attempting to keep Adora from endangering herself without tearing down her own sanity. It's a total relief when Mystacor finally comes into view. It’s bright, tall - _it makes sense Adora lives here_ \- and looks kind of like a pseudo-modern castle. They ease up to it slowly. 

Catra deposits Adora on the ground next to the nearest side door, then pats her down in order to obtain her wallet and search for a key card.

"C-Catra…?"

Why is Adora walking around with all this cash? There’s at least two hundred dollars in here. Is she that stupid? Probably. Catra wonders how much a certain drunk had started with before she got wasted. It’s very odd indeed. She’d been alone, too. Then again, so was Catra.

"What?" There’s the key card. Fancy looking, bleh.

"Whyyy aree you evenn h-here?" Maybe Adora is more present than Catra gave her credit for. But she ignores the question anyways, choosing instead to clumsily pull the blonde back to her feet. Once she's semi stable, Catra opens the door to the complex. They enter an empty hallway with a definite stagger. It's eerily quiet. Thank God Adora hasn't thrown up... 

Now, the elevator. Nearly there. 

"What floor?" Catra asks with a huff. 

A giggling Adora reaches out to press all the numbers on the panel, but Catra's prepared for this kind of behavior and swats her hand away once more. 

"Adora. What. Floor."

"Righhht… F-Four…"

Four it is. Catra punches the silver button, and the doors close. It's an unhelpfully slow elevator. The slowest she's ever been in. 

And the silence...it's damn near excruciating. Oh well. Adora is drunk, it shouldn't really matter what Catra says. 

"This is uh, a nice apartment complex." 

"Yeaaaahh." Adora's expression morphs from nausea to dopey grin. "I l-likee it…"

"The elevator fucking sucks though." 

Ding, floor number two. Only floor two?

"Yeaaaaaaaaaahhhh…"

Catra is actually feeling pissed. It's gotta be the elevator. "I would've thought you'd live somewhere with a better one." 

Adora tilts her head in that special, oh so intoxicated way. "Huhh?" No surprise there. 

"Because you know," Catra mutters with real venom now. _"You're so fucking rich."_

Adora stares hazily at Catra. She doesn't seem to have a reply. 

Ding, floor number three. Almost there. 

Catra doesn't like that she doesn't respond. She looks into Adora's eyes, a dash of anger in her own. "Guess your prissy parents didn't do their research. Now you're stuck with a shit elevator." It's hardly an insult, but she can't think up anything worse. "I bet that sucks for you." 

Nice going, now it's awkward. Adora is silent. Uncharacteristically so. Like, she's drunk. It doesn't quite make sense, because the insult wasn't _that_ bad. 

Another few seconds of silence pass before, ding, floor number four.

They exit the elevator. 

"What room?"

"T-Twelve…" It's hardly a whisper.

Catra gets that funny knot in her stomach. The one that tells her she did something wrong. It's making her paranoid. 

She slowly half drags Adora to apartment number twelve. After fiddling with the key card again, she then opens the door and flicks on the light. A single. It's as nice as expected. No roommates. Expensive. Point in case. Catra doesn't care to look around, though. She brings Adora inside and bolts the door. She gives the living room a cursory glance only to identify what is clearly the bedroom. 

When Catra finally gets Adora into bed, it's a relief. It's a relief the idiot isn't going to get mugged...or worse. It's a relief she's quiet and calm, spare a few hiccups here and there. The sober of the two works off the other's shoes. 

_"Mmmnnhhhot…"_ But Adora is tugging at her flannel. 

Catra sighs theatrically and finishes taking off Adora's shoes. "Fine." 

When she starts unbuttoning Adora's shirt, her hands tremble. Each button down represents a hazy thought of her own. She knows this feeling. But it's not one she's going to address. She didn't address it freshman year, and now she's nearly out of college, there's no real point. Fuck Adora, that's all there is to be said. 

She pulls the unbuttoned flannel from Adora's body and throws it to her laundry basket. She glances at what she's wearing beneath it - a white tank top. Catra fidgets. "I'm not doing your pants."

There's no fight about that. Adora is quiet again. 

Now Catra is not at all sure what to do next. She stands awkwardly, somehow feeling even more trapped than when they were walking here. She still doesn't feel like she can leave Adora alone. If she pukes in her sleep...she could choke on it.

Maybe it's time for Catra to actually take in the surroundings. She looks around. Adora’s bedsheets are a muted shade of red. Her dresser, gray. There's a lot of red and gray everywhere, actually. She walks to Adora's desk. It's covered in random crap. A sports medal here, a _red_ athletic jacket there. A pile of textbooks and…

A plant on the windowsill. The idiot also hung up a wind chime. She probably bought it on impulse, because Catra isn't sure Adora knows what a wind chime is. Okay, maybe that's a little too bitter.

She looks to the largest expanse of wall in the bedroom. It's covered in photos. So many photos for so many friends. The photos of friends are everywhere, clearly these are Adora's pride and joy.

Catra isn't sure how she missed all this. 

There's Glimmer and Bow, playing soccer. 

Perfuma at a mixer.

Mermista and Seahawk at a Halloween party, dressed up like pirates. 

Then there's Scorpia, their only real mutual friend...and Catra's source for all the shit that goes down in her old circle. 

There's got to be over a hundred of these ridiculous photos. Catra squints. There's even one of - _of her!?_ From freshman year, no less. Adora kept that stupid photo of her hanging from the top bunk! Catra immediately rips it from the wall and puts it in her pocket, reasoning that it's fair payment for getting her home. Besides, she doesn't want any part of her living with Adora.

Catra's become so engrossed, she actually startles when Adora speaks. She almost thought she was alone.

"Caaatra..?" Adora is looking at her. 

"What is it?" Her voice is harsher than she means it to be. 

It's so strange, Adora looks oddly hurt. Her eyes are doing that thing they do when she's upset. It doesn't make any sense. That is, until she opens her mouth. "...Caaahtra, abouttt beffoore… YYouu shoulldd knowwss... I don'thave parrrents. Theyyy're deaad..." 

Time stops. 

So does Catra's heart. _What?_

Then it sinks to the floor. No, through the floor. Like...

The elevator. What she'd said in the elevator. Fuck. 

She hasn't felt guilt like this in- _in practically forever._

Why had she never known this? 

Even when they were friends during their first year - she never knew. Actually, nobody in their friend group knew. They probably still don't. 

Her heart feels like it drops even further, somewhere between the lobby and the basement.

They don't know. 

But Catra knows. 

What is she even supposed to do with this information? It's… It's insane to think she and Adora have something so intimate in common. Something that all throughout their friendship, they had never shared with each other. What a...funny turn of events. 

Adora is staring at her without pause. Relentlessly. Her mouth hangs open slightly, but Catra doesn't know if it's because she's drunk, or because she's waiting for an answer. 

Answering might be helpful to the situation, but then again, Adora might not even register it. 

"I'm, uh-" She isn't totally sure why she's bothering to do this. Adora won't even remember. She could just let it go. "-I'm sorry. I was...rude." The last word is a little stiff, but at least it's genuine.

No, Catra never imagined she would be in this situation. She never imagined hearing Adora confess something so private. She never imagined...

"I don't have parents either." It comes out of her own mouth before Catra can stop it. Her own little secret. Spilled, just for the sake of sharing. Or maybe to make herself feel better about being an asshole... "So uh, I get it."

Adora is certainly inebriated, because just those words immediately send her almost to tears. _"Realllly?"_ She asks hoarsely. God, could she be more emotional? 

Catra's parents obviously hadn't left her with a shit load of cash, not like Adora's. But she means it anyway. "Yeah. So. Yeah… Sorry." This time, the apology is a little deflated. 

Catra isn't expecting anything. She hangs her head in shame, sensing tears threatening her own eyes.

Stupid...

The poor apology doesn't seem to matter. "Ss o-okay." Maybe because Adora is too damn forgiving. 

God, Catra wishes she could just run from here. "Thanks…" But she won't. She can't.

"Heyy, Catraa…?"

"Yeah?"

"Are...y…." Hiccup. Take one. "Arrre youuu...nnn…" Hiccup. Take two. "Aree youu g-gonna leaave?"

Right, about that. Catra shakes her head. "No, I'll just…" She looks around. Sit at Adora's desk? Try the couch?

"C-C'mere…"

Okay. She can't stop herself. Maybe it's the guilt. She moves back to the bedside. Adora is smiling up at her, any hint of sadness completely erased. "Caaan I telll you s-somthin? Thhe thingg frommm b-before…"

Before? Oh, _before_ before. The thing from back when they had been struggling to make it here.

"Yeah." Sigh. There's no reason not to now. "Why not."

Adora's unsteady hand unexpectedly grasps Catra's. It's a surprising act of affection. The real surprise, however, is the force with which Adora tugs Catra down, sending her tumbling onto the bed and into a strange kind of embrace.

"Adora!?" Catra's brain goes into overdrive to process what the hell just happened. She can feel Adora's toned body beneath her. _"What are you-"_

And she can smell the alcohol stronger than ever. Catra stares up at that grin, that stupid plastered grin. 

"Mmglad yyou toook me homee…"

What the fuck, Adora?

"B-Becaussse… Honestlyy?"

What is this?

"I misss yyouu…"

Catra can feel her heart hammering in her chest. So loudly. She knows this feeling, that churning feeling in her stomach. It's not nausea - and her face, it's so fucking hot. 

"N I'm sad w-wwe don't talk." Adora continues with a slur. "Caussee I'vve alwayys… T-Thought…ahhh… _You're jusst sso prettyy…"_

She misses her, and she thinks she's pretty. The confession brings Catra many feelings, and to be honest, not all of them are good. Yet, good or bad, every single damn one is exhilarating.

"Jesus…" Catra rests her head on Adora's chest in an effort to hide her racing heartbeat, even if it's just from herself. "You're such an idiot…" The last sentence is a muffled groan. 

_She actually said that she misses Catra. She actually said she's...pretty._

She tells herself it doesn't mean anything. It can't, Adora is drunk. Catra means to look back up, she really does. Soft fingers pat the top of her head. 

Adora hiccups. 

Catra stays frozen in place. She stays that way for a long time. The embarrassment only dies down when tiredness sweeps in. She reminds herself that she should probably get up, move Adora more on her side.

But now, Adora is snoring so softly. It would be rude to wake her...

And so slowly, Catra feels herself begin to slip. 

-

There are birds chirping outside. 

_"Catra...?"_ Such a distant voice.

Warmth everywhere. Catra digs her nails into it, whatever it is. There's a vague, small jerk from said warmth when she does. 

_"OhmyGod-"_ ...Less distant, and is that a gasp? 

But gosh, there's such a wonderfully familiar scent all over. Catra buries her face deeper into its comfort. 

_"Did- did we!?"_ And then it's not distant, like, at all. 

Awake. 

Catra is immediately made aware that her arm is around Adora's waist, and her face is pressing into the crook of the blonde's neck. There's sunlight peeking through the window. It's morning. 

Oh God. 

It's also pure, acute, unadulterated panic. 

Catra scrambles to her feet in record time. Even a colorblind person could see she's red as a beet. At least she's still dressed, and so is Adora. Thank fuck. 

They stare at each other. 

"N-No." Catra says after a short delay. She's embarrassed at her own stutter. "Uh."

_Uh?_

_Uh what!?_

_Uh the fuck what!?!?_

"Uh… Hey, Adora?"


	2. Coffee

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright guys, you like this story, I like this story too. I took the time to come up with a solid outline. Just so you know what you're all in for, I'm currently looking at this going for between 7-10 chapters. I plan for each chapter to alternate focus between Adora and Catra, which means this chapter will focus on how Adora is experiencing everything. Let me know what you think!

On second thought.

Perhaps the taste of alcohol is not as appealing as Adora thought it was. Especially now it reeks inside of her mouth.

Her eyes hurt too. Maybe opening them wasn't the brightest idea either. It just enhances her already unmistakable, aching hangover. That light shining through the window? It's way too bright. Honestly, while Adora usually loves the birds outside, right now they aren't helping either. And she's too warm! So whatever that weight is that's on her needs to...

Wait, _weight?_

Wait, that...

 _That_ is a body resting on her. A woman. Adora can’t see her face, because...there’s breathing. On her neck. The blonde’s stomach does about three backflips, which is not good, because she still isn’t feeling so good around there.

But. Breathing. On. Her. Neck.

Adora inhales deeply, because she knows that smell. And that, friends, is how easy it is to forget a hangover - even momentarily. "Catra…?" 

The sleeping woman lets out a small groan, restlessly gripping at Adora's side. 

Adora startles, gasping at the contact. _"OhmyGod…"_ She knows she went out drinking last night, but if Catra is in bed with her - _the brunette nuzzles her face further into Adora’s neck_ \- then - did they...?

 _"Did- did we!?"_ This time her voice is loud enough. Even the birds shut up for a second. 

Catra’s eyes open, and they open wide. She sits up slightly, inches away from the blonde. Adora sees the first four stages of grief flash through them - and though they are in no particular order, the effect of denial, anger, bargaining and depression are undeniably comical. She shoots off the bed, nearly tumbling over onto the ground. Catra definitely way more panicked than Adora, and that's saying something. 

Then she straightens up, and in the softest, most ridiculously embarrassed stutter Adora has ever heard her ex best friend use, speaks. “N-No.”

They hadn’t slept together.

Whew. _Or, no?_ No, Adora decides on whew. Still, she stares, because this is beyond strange. Too strange. 

Catra nervously runs her fingers through her hair, clearly she had expected Adora to say something. She clears her throat. "Uh… Hey, Adora?" 

This can’t be real. 

"... Adora?" 

_"...Catra?"_ Adora’s reply is so belated, it comes off sounding dumb. "You brought me home last night?"

Catra nods slowly, as if she’s unsure whether to say no or not. "...Yeah?" 

"Seriously?”

"I...just said I did?" 

No, it can’t be real. Wake up. Adora slaps her hand against her forehead, _ouch,_ stupid. "I’m dreaming." 

But Catra remains visible, and she chuckles awkwardly. "Maybe. I wish..." She appears a teensy bit calmer now. More in control of herself, even if she's still blushing.

 _She's still blushing._

It's real. 

Adora doesn't remember a lick of last night. She’s struggling to piece together a path that could've possibly led to Catra sleeping in bed with her. Yeah, that's not ever going to follow. All she knows is Catra is here, _right now._ Catra, who without fail, always ignores her on campus. Catra, who pretends Adora doesn't exist. Catra, the woman who she sorely misses. Catra, whose voice rings out awkwardly once more. "Since you’re up… I'll go?"

Adora is brought back to the present. 

_Go!?_

She just got here! Well, sort of. Whatever. Adora doesn't know what she did to deserve this chance, but she's not going to let it slip by. It's her turn to scramble out of bed. "No! No! I've gotta, I've gotta like-" Think Adora, think. "Thank you and stuff. For the- the uh- the _help._ Let me make you breakfast?"

"Adora…" Catra is still at least slightly embarrassed.

 _But that won’t last forever._ When she’s back to normal, Adora won’t stand a chance of keeping her here until she can figure out, uh...whatever it is exactly that she's trying to figure out. “Really, I’ve got it. A gift. Me to you, um…”

Adora pushes through her reemerging headache to run through what's in the fridge.

Eggs? No.

Bacon? No.

No toast, regular or french.  
  
_Waffles…?Pancakes?Sausage?BagelsCerealCrepesOatmeal?_ No...nope, no-no, no, no and _no._

Not even a lousy pop tart. 

She has milk, but only a little. What is she going to do, offer her plain milk?

There is some fruit. Adora had been planning on having a protein enriched fruit smoothie for breakfast, and by the time she got back later today, there’d be more options. See, she has this terrible habit of not keeping up with basic household chores. For example, keeping food in the fridge. That’s why she has it delivered. Money can buy weekly food delivery, and her delivery boy Kyle is coming by with groceries this afternoon, but Adora groans inside of her head. Because money can't get them here now.

The time she needs them. 

Personal competency. It's something she's working on.

Wait, she has it. Adora snaps her fingers. No literally, she actually has the materials needed to make Catra something. "Coffee. You like coffee."

Coffee. How could she have missed that? So simple. So easy. She can even use the milk!

"Jesus… Adora-"

"You _love_ coffee.” Adora beams. “Even I remember that. I'll make us coffee." 

She’s not giving Catra any chance to back out now, firmly grabbing her arm and starting them both towards the door to the living area. Upon walking, Adora discovers that she really, really has to pee. All the alcohol…and whatnot. But she's going to have to hold it. She gets the feeling if she loses sight of Catra, she may not ever see her again. She only lets her reluctant guest go once she’s actually preparing their drinks, but even that is no guarantee. 

_Please don’t walk out._

Because Catra isn't too concerned with politeness. She never has been. She could just leave. The brunette is stock still, grimacing, but so far, staying put.

For not having had sex, this is pretty awkward. Adora’s hand wanders up to her neck, checking for any sign of a hickey.

None… What happened last night?

Adora glances at her guest. “So… Thanks again, for bringing me home.” No reply. “Uh, where exactly did you find me?”

It takes Catra a moment to contemplate her answer. The only sound is the coffee machine, and Adora hopes she’ll be soft with her words. “I found you... About two seconds away from being drugged at the Fright Zone.” Or maybe not. The brunette narrows her eyes. “I didn’t know you go there.”

Adora flushes pink. She didn’t know that either. It’s a popular spot, but just how drunk was she? Maybe her annual lonely celebration of _everything falling apart in her life_ went a little too far this year. “I heard it’s a good club.”

“It’s not.” 

Why was Catra there, anyways? But. Okay. Next subject. "Right… _Sooo…_ How’s your semester going?” Oof.

Catra crosses her arms. “You brought me out here to make me coffee and ask how my semester is going? Seriously?”

Well, no. Whatever. Adora can lead their conversation by example then, and she ignores Catra’s provocation. “...Mine is fine.” Adora bites her lip. “Lots of, um, work.”

Her guest doesn’t budge. She’s getting colder. 

Reverse, reverse, Adora. Dopey smile. “Whaaat are _yooou_ majoring in? Still Computer Science?" 

And avoiding Adora’s eyes. “Yep.”

“You like it?”

“It's fine." There’s only the faintest hint of a blush left now. She’s shutting down. They haven’t talked since the day she left, maybe that’s it.

Coffee, please. "I could never do that." Wait.

Catra rolls her eyes, and Adora realizes she probably hears this speech from someone at least once a week. 

_It's too hard._

_It's too complicated._

_It's too much math._

All of the above are true, but regardless, Adora feels anxiety rise in her chest. Say something! "I mean, actually. _I do,_ some. Yeah, coding _is_ fun and all-" It's not really. That's a lie. She doesn't like lying, so maybe backpedal a little? "-but sitting behind a screen just gets to me. I could never, um, do it for a long time..."

For the first time since waking up, Catra actually looks interested. Almost normal. Warmer. "You code?"

Oh no. "Well," She can feel a sheepish smile rise on her face. _She’s sweating._ "Yes? It’s uh, very fulfilling-” Sure, Adora. Sure. “-when I get it right." The machine finally finishes its work. Bless. "Oh, look at that, aha. The coffee's ready."

Adora grabs a couple mugs from a nearby cabinet, letting them annoyingly clatter against each other so that she doesn’t have to talk. Then, she pours two servings and hurries to the fridge. Just as predicted, there really is only a small amount of milk left, so… 

"You want milk?"

"Sure."

Catra gets to have all of it. 

Adora slides her guest the mug. She doesn’t expect a thank you, because she knows Catra. So obviously, she definitely doesn’t receive one. Then, she leans back against the counter with her cup of black coffee. It may not be an iced coffee, or a latte, or anything else she’s used to. But it's coffee, how bad can it really be? 

Catra side eyes Adora’s adjustment, gaze quickly roving up her body. "… What about you? Are you still doing English?" At least she’s asking something.

_By the way, the answer to “How bad can it be?” is that it can be bad._

_It can be very, very bad._

Adora winces, suppressing her gag reflex. Her eyes are nearly watering and she hasn’t even swallowed. Still, she determinedly finishes her first sip. "Mmmgh… No?" There, one sip. A-maz-ing. She just has to put the cup down, though. "I mean no, I'm Art History now." 

Blue-green eyes widen unexpectedly. Of all things, it’s clear Catra wasn’t expecting that. "Art History? Adora do you...like art?"

_God, the taste just won’t leave her mouth. It’s worse than the alcohol._

And here it goes, she knows what's coming. "Well..."

Sure enough. "Can you even _do_ art?"

"No?"

Catra sets her coffee down too. Albeit for an entirely different reason. "What the fuck, Adora?"

Yes, yes. The profanity is welcome, even if Adora dislikes using it herself. It means Catra is letting her guard down. She’s engaging. The blonde leans in, as if she's sharing a secret. "It's easy, Catra. I don’t have to worry about it. It lets me focus on other stuff."

Other stuff. It’s not like Adora isn’t a hard worker- she is. Academics are simply second place to her, compared to the things she really cares about. Her professors like her. Her friends are artsy. So what if she has a plan to do something else? Who would care about that?

Catra.

It’s obvious that this annoys Catra even more. Someone’s got a superiority complex about choosing a supposedly _smarter and more financially viable_ major. "It shouldn't be like that, though. You should still know what you're talking about.”

Adora laughs. She shouldn’t find this reaction cute, but it is. "Yeah, I could. And maybe I should know what I'm talking about. If I wanted to actually make a career out of it, I would. But I don't, so."

"You don't? What are you gonna do, stick to being a rich priss and travel the world all alone until you die of fun?" Like that, the brunette falters. Not sounding as confident, her gaze drops.

What’s Catra’s beef with that, anyway? Never mind. "I'm on the basketball team, silly. I have to keep my grades up."

"...So you're going to be a professional basketball player or something?" 

That’s kind of the idea. "I mean, yeah, I'm trying to."

"Wow." Catra’s sighs. It’s not clear what kind of sigh it is.

Adora cocks her head. “What?”

“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard you say.” Oh, that kind. 

She’s refusing to look at Adora yet again. Her nails are tapping profusely on the lip of her mug, her expression turning almost vacant. It feels judgmental. Like, she’s bored. That can’t be. She was into their conversation not even thirty seconds ago! She’s just...withdrawn…? 

"Am I not allowed to like sports?" Adora tries the teasing approach. Nothing, anxiety drives her to taste her coffee again, maybe it’ll be better the second time. Nope, it isn’t.

The conversation is dead. Devoid of all rhythm.

Adora knows that the reality is that small talk is difficult right now. It's made more difficult after almost four years of radio silence, which of course, they are definitely _not_ going to discuss… Even though Adora doesn’t know why Catra dislikes her so much; even though she still doesn’t know why Catra disappeared.

Even though she doesn’t understand why Catra is _this_ quiet.

She represses the urge to ask, because a serious silence does not always call for serious questions. Catra’s interest has waned, and Adora shouldn’t make it worse. Her eyes are dark enough. She pushes her mug back to Adora.

The blonde looks down at it in panic. “Um, you’re done?”

The coffee is only half gone, but, "Yeah. I think I'll go now. Thanks for the coffee, I guess." It's so sudden, it doesn’t matter that the blonde suspected it might happen. What happened???

There’s no time to think.

Adora is out of time.

"Oh, right..." Now or never. She's too afraid to ask. "Uh, one last thing before you go. Is it okay if, maybe, you know what, one second." So maybe she shouldn't ask at all. It worked for breakfast, after all. "Let me give you my number."

Catra stares blankly. "Why?" 

"Think of it like an- uhhh, an IOU?" Adora smiles, acutely aware of her heart- _and head,_ pounding painfully. "You get one favor from me." 

"I don't want a favor from you." 

Ignore that. Just ignore that. But hurry up. She quickly opens the nearest drawer, shaking hands searching for anything - _ah,_ a pen...and? The fridge. She tears off her latest grocery list. She doesn't need it, Kyle has a digital version already. She scrawls her number over the food items, then extends the note to Catra, who doesn’t seem to want to take it. Adora pushes it into her hand. 

Catra looks down at the piece of paper. It's not clear whether or not she's going to crumple it up.

_Be nonchalant._

"There's my number, in case you forgot. Now you can text me if you need anything. No questions asked. If you never want my help?" Adora shrugs her shoulders, in a...natural-ish...way. "That's fine too."

It’s not, but, well...

It takes Catra a few moments to slowly slide it in her jean pocket. When she glances back up, her face is still blank. 

Adora knows she's missing something here.

"Okay, uh." Catra pauses, glancing at the door. "Thanks, Adora." 

She’ll figure her out. "I'll see you around?"

"See you."

Adora waits until the door clicks to a close to exhale - _she didn't realize she was holding her breath._ She’s almost panting. It feels like a weight has lifted off her chest for the second time today. No, she hadn’t done perfect, but it’ll do. Adora whips out her phone. She can hardly bring up the groupchat, she’s so shaken. 

So relieved.

So confused, but.

Holy hell. She just survived… Catra.

_Adora: Guys!_

_Adora: Guys!!!_

_Adora: You won't believe what just happened._


	3. Friends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all, here's chapter 3. :)
> 
> Apologies for the wait - but chapter 4 will be out tomorrow for certain. I'm finishing up editing it.
> 
> For now, enjoy! I can't wait to hear what you all think.

It's undeniable at this point. The tentative peace is broken. The replacement? A familiar murky haze that only takes seconds for Catra to succumb to.

It started with that laugh. _That laugh she viscerally hates, and which she has no plans to bring back._ It made her feel things that Catra isn't open to enduring anymore. 

Her revenge was supposed to be sweet. But joking about death? She should've known it would hurt her more than Adora. She cornered herself into reliving last night - lonely enough the first time, worse with company. 

"...So you're going to be a professional basketball player or something?" Catra is having difficulty staying present.

"I mean, yeah, I'm trying to." 

She hears that, though. 

So, what? Sports are Adora's biggest hardship then? Those words bother her, a fact she's struggling to hide. She preferred the upset drunk to this. 

_Adora’s parents are dead too._

Why is she standing here, rambling on? 

_It’s like she’s okay with it._

Why does she get to heal? 

_Catra doesn't. It isn’t fair._

"Wow." Catra’s sighs, it's a mask for her thoughts as well her resentment. Suddenly, last night disappears in favor of _everything else._ Every little fucking part. Because inadvertently or not, Adora's always been like this. Hurtful. The memories don’t drift, _they pierce_ to the forefront of Catra’s mind. 

_"Oh look! ABC tragedy happened to XYZ group, isn’t that so sad?" Once a week, at least._

_To be followed by, "Let's skip class and go to the beach. What do you mean you’re not coming, Catra?"_

_And the big one, "We’re going to Costa Rica for spring break!"_

_Then...then there's also **that.** The one she tries not to think about. Catra has to bite down on her tongue. Is there really anything worse than being humiliated? By a best friend. By a crush! No, there isn’t. _

_… "I don't understand! Catra, please! Tell me what happened!"_

Present day Adora speaks, her voice partially breaking through the memories. “What?”

… Only partially. 

“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard you say.” Because Catra isn't sure which version she's replying to. She absently taps on her coffee cup, but the contact doesn't calm her. 

Adora's eyes widen, noticeably confused. A pause. "Am I not allowed to like sports?" 

Is she trying to jump start the conversation? As if that'll work. As if they can stand here and _talk._ As if everything is _normal._

Catra isn’t going to have it, and she's not letting this idiot have it either, God, staying was a mistake. She pushes her coffee back to Adora, whose face instantly falls. “Um, you’re done?” 

There's a quaver in her voice. Good. 

“Yeah.” At least Catra is on her way out now. "I think I'll go now. Thanks for the coffee, I guess."

Well, trying to be. "Oh, right." Adora bites her lip, thinking. It's never good when she does that. "Uh, one last thing before you go. Is it okay if, maybe, you know what, one second. Let me give you my number."

Oh fuck. "Why?" 

But Catra knows why. 

"Think of it like an IOU?" Adora strains a small smile. "You get one favor from me." 

Adora wants to talk.

"I don't want a favor from you." Catra puts an edge on her voice. It's purposeful. A direct warning. 

_So don't fucking do it, idiot._

Useless though, because Adora is not to be dissuaded. She's already rummaging around the closest drawer for a pen, and when she finds one, she hastily scribbles her number on a sticky note - formerly a grocery list - torn from the fridge door. She holds it out to Catra, unable to disguise the tremble of her hand. 

When the brunette doesn’t take it, it’s almost shoved into her grasp. "There's my number, in case you forgot. Now you can text me if you need anything. No questions asked. If you never want my help?" She shrugs - in a...not normal way. "That's fine too."

Catra stares down at the note, it really wasn’t necessary. She hasn't forgotten Adora's number. She remembers every digit. Yeah yeah, almost four years later. Shut up. It doesn't matter that she remembers, because Adora is blocked. She's been blocked since the day Catra left. In fact, she has no intention of ever texting her ever again. 

She didn't then.

She doesn't now.

She won't ever. 

But it seems like this is the only way to get out of here without some kind of pleading lecture. Catra hesitates, then pockets the piece of paper. _Her fingers run over the photo from earlier as well, she almost forgot it was there._ Then, she looks back up into the face of relief. "Okay, uh… Thanks, Adora." 

"I'll see you around?" So hopeful.

Uh huh, Catra sure hopes not. "See you."

She tries not to rush out the door. Maybe she does a little, but oh well. To the elevator. Three slow as hell dings later, and frankly, she just wants to forget this ever happened. Forget those memories. Forget what Adora said. Forget all of it. Maybe it’s time for her to get drunk.

Catra isn't even out of the complex when her phone buzzes. She digs it out of her pocket to read…

_Scorpia: Sooo... r u gonna text her?_

For the love of God. 

_Catra: what?_

_Scorpia: I heard ur talking to adora again_

_Catra: who told you that_

_Scorpia: Adora_

Can she please take the hint? Jesus.

_Catra: adora told you wrong_

_Scorpia: She seems happy 2 see u_

_Catra: she was drunk_

_Scorpia: No afetr that_

_Scorpia: after*_

_Scorpia: Shes texting me rn_

_Scorpia: Do u want me to add u 2 the groupchat?_

_Catra: no._

Catra shuts off her phone screen. Shit like this is exactly why she never wants to text Adora. Ever met someone who is so nice, they’re too nice? Usually comes with the sheltered ones. Like those white kids that go on mission trips to Africa to build a school in the middle of a warzone, take photos, and leave just for it to get blown up? They might even mean well, but it doesn’t matter. People like that? _Adora is every single one of them._

Helping Adora could’ve been a statement of her own self sufficiency. But, of course the blonde had to take it as an invitation to try to be friends again. No good deed goes unpunished. Catra doesn’t need Adora. She doesn’t want her, or her good intentions. Not when somehow it's always about her. Or her weird habit of saving the damned. That’s still about her, though. Still rooted in that fucked up lack of self realization. 

… Maybe not always. Yet in Catra's mind, she certainly is. "Oblivious overbearing bitch." 

A passerby glances in concern. Perhaps muttering to herself isn't a good look. Fuck, she's supposed to be blocking this out. It’s going to be hard to forget about that sick feeling in her chest. 

Catra ventures further away from Mystacor, eventually passing the Fright Zone. She chuckles. It looks like a drug den in the daytime. Well to be fair, it kind of is. 

Another buzz. Isn’t she just so popular today? She glances down at her phone, expecting bad. 

_Shadow Weaver: I will be returning on the 28th. We're going to have a talk._

But that’s worse. This is the wrong kind of popular.

The 28th is two weeks away. What's so huge that Shadow Weaver is warning her now? Oh - context. Shadow Weaver is her landlord, though not by choice. Last year, she bought up the apartment building Catra lives in. It was obvious from day one that she hated Catra, who knows why. Sometimes it worries the brunette, because she doesn’t have an official lease - part of the low price of the place. It’s not strictly legal, but that’s just how it works. _High stakes for poor people._ Shadow Weaver has thus far honored the prior agreement...but only just. 

Catra is fully aware that she's at this bitch's mercy, begins to reply with as little snark as she can muster. 

She's walking while texting. Always a bad idea, because there's _somebodycomingtowards_ -...yeah…too late. Her shoulder slams into the poor soul with an almighty thud. Of course, she's not one to take any blame. “Hey! Watch where the fuck you’re-”

_“Woah! C-Catra?”_

This is one too many. The universe needs to calm down and give her a break. 

“...Kyle…!?” From tenth grade algebra.

"Uh-" That's him. "...Hi..."

Catra never really liked him. She almost forgot he existed. _He’s still so scrawny, wow._ To be fair, he had to be pretty small to have Catra knock him over. Now, he’s on the ground picking up an array of fallen food items. Bad luck, it’s clear he was nearly to his car. “Jesus Kyle… What are you doing out here?”

If Catra thinks hard, she would swear he moved to Seattle. Maybe not? _Well, clearly not._

Here's here, and he’s still got that messy hair, although his button down makes him appear more put together than last time she saw him. “I-I do deliveries."

For groceries? 

That’s real? 

_People do that?_

And there’s another man with him - just arrived. The exact opposite. Tall. Fit. Clearly a gym goer. He has brown hair, tan skin, and green eyes. He’s even kneeling and helping Kyle clean up. Nice guy apparently, hopefully not too nice. 

She can’t help but to feel stupid standing and doing nothing. Alright, fine. Catra grudgingly squats down too in order to retrieve a dented box of protein powder. She's not going to say sorry, though. 

“Here.” Catra’s voice is unsteady. She’s not sure how friendly she wants to get.

“Thanks, Catra.” Kyle’s awkward smile says he’s nervous, but he still takes it gratefully. 

They fall into a momentary silence, which is hardly pleasant. Okay... She’ll talk. Catra passes him a miraculously unexploded carton of milk. "So. Deliveries, huh. Is it like you do a grocery-uber-thing for this shit?" It’s the only thing she can think of, but at least she’s asking because she’s actually curious. People being too lazy to go buy food is simply unfathomable to Catra.

Kyle seems relieved she said something. Simply judging by his shoulder posture alone, he’s less tense already.

"Kind of? I get everyone's orders at around the same time, though. It's more like delivering mail. This’ll be my last drop off later today..." That's pretty efficient. Especially for Kyle. “Anyways, I haven’t seen you since high school, how’s it going?”

Ah, there's the first question...and here's a gross whole wheat waffle mix. “It’s...going.”

That's a way to put it. 

She picks up a package of instant ramen last. Kyle thanks her again, always so mannered. Then, “Are you studying at Etheria?”

And the second expected question. Great, now they're both covered. “Yep. Computer Science.” 

That’s everything back in the bag. 

Kyle’s eyes shine. “Really? Me too!” They all stand up, and this time, the other man insists on holding the groceries. Probably smart. “Oh, yeah-” An awkward chuckle. “-This is Rogelio. He’s my boyfriend.”

Well that’s a surprise. Not Kyle being gay, everyone knew that. Just. This dude. Rogelio sticks out his hand, Catra takes it. Firm grip. Maybe he’s the good kind of nice after all. “It's great to meet you, Catra. So, you’re Kyle’s friend?”

That's the first time Catra's laughed in twenty four hours. Jesus, imagine that. 

"Pffft, how is _that_ even a question?" Kyle and Catra look at each other, the latter out of amusement. The answer very much so depends on how much he remembers about high school. though. _Catra did spend an awful lot of time sticking gum in his hair._ He's smiling weakly, which is odd. It makes her feel odd too, and less sure. She always feels like this when the universe has old acquaintances be nice to her. She turns her attention back to the taller man. Okay, she can be polite. Again… But only one more time. For knocking Kyle over, and because Rogelio is buff enough to beat her up. “I mean... Uhhh. Yes...?”

...Thaaat didn't come out too convincingly. She should've just said no. At least mister scrawny looks grateful. 

“Then you’re my friend too.” Well that’s, uh, quite a bold thing to say right off the bat.

Normally, such a statement would annoy the living shit out of Catra. Nobody gets to proclaim immediate friendship with her. “Friend” is a tightly regulated position in her life. She’s about to say as much, but it just so happens that it is at this moment that her phone goes off yet again.

Shit, she never hit send, did she?

“One sec-” Catra groans, but is drawn down to her phone regardless. If it's Shadow Weaver again...

_Scorpia: U SLEPT ON HER? Catraaa! What r u gonna do abt Adoooora???_

_Scorpia: Dont ignore me!_

_Scorpia: *screenshot*_

Fuck.

Her stomach drops. It’s a photo of whatever group chat they’re in, with no less than ten texts about Catra _herself._

Catra doesn't read them. She's flooding with upset. Anger. Embarrassment. _Humiliation._ Whether the texts are praise or scorn, she doesn't want to know. She bites her lip very, very hard in order to control herself. Scorpia may be her friend. But God damn. She'll never get how much of a betrayal this is, even though it's not like Catra will tell her. 

She looks back up at both Rogelio and Kyle, considerably less happy than before. Which is saying quite a lot, because she wasn’t exactly cheerful prior to those texts. “Right, friend…” 

She needs to go home and let off steam - a ton of it, ideally in an unhealthy way. Hopefully she has the place to herself. If not, maybe she'll go to the Fright Zone later. Despite what Catra told Adora, she likes it there. Maybe like is the wrong word. It's definitely not safe, but whatever. Plus, the idiot will stay away now. Still… Getting drunk alone probably isn’t going to make her feel any less awful in the long term. God, she does truly feel awful.

… And it shows. She knows it shows that she's having a shit day. 

Catra is about to rattle off a goodbye to both of them when Kyle interrupts. “Hey, Catra?” 

He's always been sensitive. So, of course he can tell she's off. That stupid sensitivity is part of why she used to bully him. Now he's using that voice. That soft, almost apprehensive one people get when someone is crying - which Catra isn't even doing. 

Seriously, she's not. Her phone is quivering in her grip, but the shaking is slight. She's just...ugh. "...What?" 

“After I’m done with this, Rogelio and I are going to meet up with a couple of old high school friends for drinks downtown." Kyle's eyes soften. "Do you...uh…want to come?”

Ahah, roll that back. _Does she want to what?_

Did Kyle just invite her to hang out?

She's genuinely surprised. Maybe even... Flattered?

Still, did it have to be him? Couldn't she have knocked over somebody else? Yeah a distraction would be nice, but Catra doesn’t really think of Kyle and his friends checking that box. Come on… It’s Kyle... She certainly would never have considered hanging out with him before now.

Buzz. 

She doesn’t look this time. She already knows it's Scorpia.

Rogelio smiles genially. “You can be our newest member of the group. We do it every Saturday. It's called DunchFest! There's also trivia this week."

That's- _wow._

Dinner and lunch? Dunch? 

That's so stupid. So ridiculous. 

But fuck, what a nice thought. Catra hasn’t had a group since Freshman year. Wait, _is_ Catra considering this? She feels kind of pathetic about that. Again, really, it's Kyle!

_Another buzz._

God damn it, shut up Scorpia. Maybe... Maybe this is worth considering.

Her thumb clicks turn off all alerts while her mind parses out the proposition. _If she went, there'd be no commitment. It'd be a break. A small one. She could use it to forget about Adora. She could take time away from everyone. Besides, everything feels so muddled right now._

She could talk to people. Different people. All kinds. Maybe she shouldn't feel pathetic.

… Okay, just for today. 

She’ll go and have _one_ drink at… Dunchfest. Maybe she’ll have three drinks, actually. If that's what it takes to forget that hideous name. 

What is the world coming to?

Sigh. “Yeah, alright. _I’m game.”_


	4. Sweat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Definitely less angst here than last chapter, although there's some for sure. I wanted some more fun tension this time around. 
> 
> Bask in the glory of Adora being a big dumb jock, because isn't that what we're all here for?

Two weeks. 

No text. 

She knows she said it didn't matter either way - _except, uh, it does._

It's even worse than that though, because Adora hasn't seen Catra since that morning. Sure, Etheria University is a big place, but she's used to catching glimpses of her every once in a while. 

Lying lazily on the quad. Sunglasses on, phone in hand.

Grabbing a sandwich at one of the university's many cafes.

Every Tuesday-Thursday at one pm sharp, during last semester. When she walked by the corner of the McMillan building during Adora's final class of the day - ARTH434. 

One time, Adora saw her asleep in the library. It was three in the morning, and she was slumped over her laptop. 

Not once did Adora ever approach her. 

Even if ignoring her was never going to work for Adora like it apparently does for Catra, Adora never wanted to poke the bear. Because when Catra left almost four years ago, she left  
completely. The whole: "don't ever talk to me again" spiel and everything. What a disaster. The blonde had _just_ figured her feelings out too. 

It feels pretty messed up that after so long, Catra came to Adora's aid, then vanished off the face of the Earth. The worst part of all this is that it reignited Adora's attraction to her all over again, although she's never been entirely over that. 

"Can you pass me the twenties?" 

Two twenty pound dumbbells are obediently placed in Adora's hands. 

"Thanks, Scorpia." 

She lifts them into the air, over her head and begins to dip them low behind her back. Triceps are a pain, but at least they're a low intensity warm up. 

_... One, two._

"Hey, Adora?" Scorpia takes a swig of water. 

_... Three, four._

Adora turns her attention to her friend. "Yeah?" 

_... Five, six._

"What do you think I should do about Perfuma?"

_... Seven, eight._

Lord, how is she supposed to know? She doesn't have a clue about this stuff. "Well. I'm uh, not really sure..." 

_... Nine._

Adora almost drops the weights on her head. She’s not making it to ten, because there’s Catra. Across the gym. Checking in, and wearing a tight, _hot_ athletic shirt and shorts combo. She's not looking at the blonde at all. But based on her mild scowl, she's already seen her.

All of the breath in Adora’s lungs seems to disappear. What should Adora do? How is she supposed to not be awkward? Should she- should she talk to Catra? Or maybe...

Her mouth is very dry. "Scorpia?"

"I want her to know how I feel! But I don't know how to express myself. Do you think she likes flowers? What am I saying, of course she does."

"Scorpia. Hand me the fifties." And her eyes are still locked onto Catra. 

Scorpia hasn't noticed at all. She's just stretching next to the weight rack. "But aren't we warming up? What about-" 

"The fifties. _Please._ I'll help you with Perfuma in like, uh, really soon."

"Okay, okay."

Adora immediately places the twenties on the floor in favor of said fifties, then rolls back flat onto the nearest bench. She holds the weights squarely above her. Good - she’s managing her racing heartbeat. _Time for a chest press._ "Is she looking now?"

"Is who looking-?" Scorpia looks around mighty conspicuously. "Oh! Oh!!! Catra's here! _Did you know tha-_ wait." And she gets it. "Yeah, she's looking." 

Fantastic. 

"Do you want me to spot you?" Scorpia asks like it's some sort of secret mission. So excited...

But Adora shakes her head. This is plan A. She's got this. If she can't appeal to Catra's normal emotions, maybe an unexpected reaction will do. Though if this doesn't work? She doesn't know what will. 

"What's your plan then?"

"To give her a reason to talk to me." If it isn't obvious, Adora is feeling considerably more confident now she's in the gym. She can't really cook, or make decent coffee, but working out makes her cocky. She's wearing a grey tank top with an electric yellow lightning strike logo on it, and red short shorts. A little clashy. 

_Again. One, two..._

Yet Adora knows how she looks when the dumbbells come down to her chest at that perfect angle. She knows how her legs plant on either side of the bench. It makes her calves look good too. She knows how her entire body gets taut. 

_Three, four..._ "Umph…"

She knows how Catra blushes, too. 

_Five, six..._

She bites her lip to accentuate the reps. 

_Seven-_

"Yeah… uh, Adora? She's leaving."

 _"What!?"_ Adora relinquishes the weights to the floor with a loud clang. People around her give their disapproving glares, because that is not proper gym etiquette. She barely notices her critics, however, because how was that not enough? Should she have used sixties? Seventy fives? What on Earth...

Scorpia shrugs her shoulders. "Maybe she's headed to the outdoor track?"

Never mind. What matters is that Adora’s second chance at repairing things is _leaving._ Walking away, which is not going to work. It can’t. It’s been two weeks. They should be talking - _fixing_ everything. 

_...Maybe the excitement is getting to her._

Maybe not, though.

“The track? That makes sense.” Adora can run track too. She has excellent stamina after four years of athletics. Maybe there is another option after all. With that thought, she sits back up on the bench. "Then I'm going to start with cardio instead." 

Plan B, approach again. Surely it's not poking the bear after Catra helped her? It's not like all those other times. The _don't ever talk to me again_ rule can't reasonably apply anymore. They've talked! They both said they’d see each other around. Isn't this around? 

… Isn't it? 

Yeah! It is! 

"Wait," Scorpia's face falls upon the realization of what she's done. "We haven't even done stretches. Shouldn't we-" 

But Adora is already wiping down her equipment. "I'll stretch with you when I'm back. Then-" She pumps her arm into the air triumphantly, adding a phoney sound effect and all. So confident. "Weights! Watch my stuff?'

"Adora, are you sure this is a good idea? Shouldn't you wait for her to come talk to you?"

“Why? When am I going to see her again?"

Scorpia furrows her brow. "I have a feeling-"

"This is my chance to fix things!" ...Adora... "Besides, it's the only idea I've got." And she’s off, sprinting towards the outdoors. She clumsily squeezes past _\- sorry -_ all those between her and the door, filled with newfound exhilaration. 

Adora is going to talk to her, and she’s going to get through to her. She just has to stay confident. 

Cool.

Collected.

Adora bursts through to the outside, and immediately scans the field. Catra can’t have gotten far.

And she hasn’t, she’s standing at the edge of the red tartan track loop. Adora jogs towards her - then skids to a halt a few yards away. 

Slow down. This is too much excitement. Appeal to Catra, woo, part two. 

Deep breaths. 

Casual, Adora. Act relaxed. 

Just… 

Walk past and… 

"Catra? I almost didn't see you." Nice. "It’s been a while.”

The brunette hasn't started exercising yet, but she doesn't look at all pleased to see Adora. She’s rigid. No reply. Good start, good start. 

Uh, say something else? Come on. "Wow, I didn't know you run." 

Adora thinks she isn't going to say anything, but after a short pause, "Yeah, I thought to myself, ‘What's the fastest way to get away from Adora?' and it just came to me." 

Yeesh. What did Adora do? That's awfully volatile considering their last conversation. As far as due can recall, it was awkward, not angry. Now it's as if Catra's mad at her all over again. Except...worse. 

But this is recoverable. "Ha. Well, that's genius." She cocks an eyebrow and crosses her arms. It’s more of a self hug than a defensive stance, though it definitely doesn’t help her case. She tries not to let her disappointment that Catra hasn't texted become too obvious. Then again, she's literally standing in front of her. 

"Why are you here?" Catra kneels down to tighten her shoe laces. 

Adora does know why she’s here, but that doesn't mean the words aren’t coming out correctly. She wants to talk to Catra, and for Catra to talk to her - nicely. Perhaps she should’ve thought up a few lines before running after her. Improvising is not her strong point.

"I've… I’ve been worried about you.” Well that was good. It's true. The truth is always good, surely. “You seemed kind of upset last time we saw each other. So I thought...maybe...we could talk...about it." Adora isn't really sure where she's going with this. Wouldn't it be nice if there was a _How to Talk to Catra_ handbook?

Adora would so buy that. 

"Upset. Hm." Catra finishes with one shoe, then moves to the other. She doesn’t seem to be biting on the opportunity. In fact, genuine spitefulness drips from her tone. "I wonder. You know what I wonder?" 

Oh no. "Uhm...?"

"Why you told me that I didn't have to text you if you were just going to bother me anyways." Done. She straightens up, and the tension increases tenfold. 

"Well-" The blonde huffs and uncrosses her arms, emphatically placing hands on her hips instead. Why is Catra already so defensive? "I'm trying to be _nice._ And _caring._ And-"

“My friend?”

Adora’s mouth hangs open for a second. Is Catra backtracking? “No?” Unless… “...I mean, maybe?”

Nope, that's too hopeful. 

Based on Catra’s behavior - she's refusing to make eye contact, looking over Adora's shoulder in search of something - she isn't after friendship. "You told me I didn't have to text you. I didn't. I don't need anything from you, Adora." 

Come on! This is so irritating.

She tries to sidle back into Catra's focus. "It’s not a need. But isn’t there any chance we could talk about what happened?" She's not sure if she's referring to two weeks ago, or four years ago. Both would be acceptable. "You don't have to text me, it just...kind of felt cut short last time we talked, that's all. Please? For me?"

No consideration.

"No." 

"Catra…" Adora doesn't really have a response for that. It was sort of expected, but she had rather inflated hopes that this might go better. 

"I'm not going to."

Deep breath. Adora hesitates before replying. "It would be nice if you-"

Catra interrupts with seething anger. "Adora-” She jabs the blonde’s shoulder. Not hard, but incredibly aggressively. “-Fucking. Drop. It. You're so God damn busy trying to figure out what's wrong with me, you haven’t considered that maybe I actually don't like you. Fuck off, will you?"

So...

Maybe this was a bad plan after all. 

"Sure..." Adora buries her face in her hands and exhales deeply, then peeks back out. No sooner does she decide to give up, than someone else arrives. 

Who's this? 

A man?

A tall, incredibly buff man with tan skin and lovely green eyes. 

Since when does Catra talk to men?

"Hey, Rogelio." Catra greets him, _warmly too,_ but gestures at Adora. "Uh. Meet Adora. She was just leaving, though. So, we can start." 

Rogelio's eyes narrow for a second - he’s quiet, contemplative. Then, they perk up into an extra bright shade of green. Oh? Oho, Adora knows that response, he’s heard of her. 

He steps forth. "Adora Brightmoon? Aren't you on the basketball team?" 

She nods, discomfort easing off a few notches. Being recognized is always a good feeling, even if Catra is staring dagger less than two feet away. But hey! Maybe Adora is turning into a bit of a celebrity around here. _Maybe Catra will take notice._ "Sure am."

Rogelio gives the blonde a wide smile. "I watched your game last Sunday. You guys wiped the floor."

Hell yeah they did. _It was a good game._ Easy. She's still high off it. Tapping into that feeling relieves some of her tension.

"Nah. Come on. It was hardly a match." Adora chuckles. "Honestly? The hardest part was keeping up with the ball, they weren't defending at all." 

Rogelio draws a little closer, a bounce in his step. "You seemed to manage fine." He's getting increasingly excited. "I wish I could see next week's, but I'm going out of town. Well, _out of country,_ actually.”

"Really? Where?"

Catra’s gaze switches back and forth between her friend and former friend. She’s sinking into the background.

"Aruba.” He looks pleased with himself. “It's an anniversary trip for my boyfriend and I." 

Adora's been there! In sophomore year. That’s crazy lucky. She's almost bubbling from the memory. She has so many pieces of advice for this guy. "It's amazing in the city! But if you get out of Oranjestad, you need to check out the local farms. They're nothing like here."

"We were considering trying out a winery somewhere outside the city." Classy.

"Definitely." Adora grins. "When my friend Scorpia visited- you should meet her, she and I went-"

"We get it, **we get it!** Aruba is great. Let him experience it himself. Now for fuck’s sake, _go away!!!"_ The conversation had barely started, but the mood is already utterly slaughtered. Catra couldn't look anymore furious. Her fists are clenched so hard, _Oh God,_ it looks like her nails are about to make her palms bleed. 

Adora's overwhelming first instinct is to help. To calm, or comfort. Something. She hasn’t seen Catra this angry since...

But she knows Catra doesn't want it. Adora doesn’t understand why, but she feels...embarrassed. 

Catra's eyes narrow even more than they were before. Her voice shakes. "And don't fucking go texting your friends about this." 

No, not embarrassed. _Mortified._ She looks back to Rogelio, having an incredibly difficult time swallowing. "Oh… Well, uh. It was nice meeting you, Rogelio."

"You too." He's not paying attention to Adora anymore. He's staring at Catra in confusion. 

The blonde turns to leave. As she's walking away, she can feel Catra's eyes shooting bullet holes in her back. She can hear Rogelio asking what _that_ was all about. 

… It really is like that woman gets more pissed each time they talk. 

Wait for Catra to talk to her… Sure...

It's more than a mere painful walk back inside. It’s nearly torture.

-

Of course, now she has a pained body too. Tortured by something much different than feelings. 

Adora's not a bath person. To her, showers are by far the superior method of cleaning. She’s always liked them better, which is definitely a good view to have as an athlete. They’re more than familiar by now.

It'll help with the soreness.

Adora steps inside and turns the shower handle, not bothering to wait for it to warm. Freezing. Spraying her hair and shoulders, trickling slower down her thighs. Supposedly, it’s healthier to start like this. It’s something her coach told her. The blonde has to brace herself against the wall to not shiver, though. 

Thankfully, the water is warming quickly. Soon it's hot, almost scalding. At that level that's just below suffocating, and at the top edge of soothing. Adora stays like that for a few minutes to let her sore muscles soak. Water running down her body. Hands flat against the tile. She watches as liquid hypnotically circles the drain. She and Scorpia pushed hard today. The latter woman already cleaned up, because Adora wanted to be alone for once. She’d stalled by grabbing a snack. Not that she doesn’t love hanging out with Scorpia, but she always picks the next stall over and sings.

Adora is troubled, and she has this itching desire to deal with it privately. She can’t deal with singing today.

As if on cue, the door to the shower room opens.

“Adora?”

At least her friend is well meaning. “What's up?"

“I wanted to check in on you. You got quiet, are you okay?”

“I’m good,” She assures Scorpia. “I’ll be out soon.”

Adora reaches for her soap and sponge, then suds it over her shoulders. She scrubs - hard, to clean the dirt and sweat off and away. She covers her upper back, over the musculature of her shoulder blades. Her arms. Then she moves softly over her stomach, but most gingerly across her breasts. 

Scorpia’s loud strides are moving away. The door opens again. The blonde doesn’t take notice, it’s a public shower after all, until-

“Oh, heeey!" Her friend's voice is higher than it should be. It sounds...surprised. "I almost forgot I saw you earlier.” But Scorpia quickly drops the awkwardness, building back to her usual excited self. _“Gosh,_ I’m so happy I ran into you. It feels like it's been forever!” 

-Wait. Is that...

The muffled sounds of a forced hug echo slightly through the room, but Adora's tense uncertainty makes them ring loudly in her ears. _There’s that snarl._

Adora freezes mid scour. 

“Christ, Scorpia- _let me go.”_

“Right! Sorry!" Then comes the sound of relief, and muttered thanks. "I missed you, that’s all.”

Hurried footsteps. Disheveled. Closer. “I needed some space.” 

She’s being short with Scorpia? Aren’t they friends too?

Rustling. Even closer and- _whoosh,_ the next stall’s shower curtain is drawn open. _Adora can hear her step in. Hear her panting._

“So you're not feeling well? That's awful. I know the gym always makes me feel better! I hope it helps you too.” Now Scorpia is farther away than Catra is...

“... Thanks.” The other curtain is drawn shut with the same force it was opened with. More low sounds, clothing being removed. The blonde startles when Catra’s shirt, shorts and _other items_ are flung on top of the shared divider between their stalls. That’s not the place to put them. But why would Catra ever read the rules? Adora can feel her pulse rapidly rising. 

“Listen, I’ll text you later-” Catra doesn’t sound like she means that one bit. “-but I've got to get this over with, and I'm trying to do it quickly." Right. Showers aren't exactly her favorite thing in the world. Adora remembers that, it used to be a teasing point. "So can you not wait there? I can hear you, and it's creepy. If you're done, leave or something.”

No, please no. 

“Oh, yeah! Sure! Sorry, I’m done. I was- uh, I was leaving anyways.” _Oh yeah, Scorpia?_ _Oh yeah_ Adora’s going to be _stuck here!_ Don't be that enthusiastic!

For a moment, Adora's shower is all that can be heard. Catra coughs expectantly.

“... Ooookay…." Scorpia trails off, clearly she's realized the situation too. Too little, too late. Adora can hope - but her friend already said she'd go. “I’ll catch you later, then… Catra.”

"Bye."

Scorpia finally retreats, and there's that swing of the door. 

Suddenly, they are alone.

It’s a wonder Adora’s heartbeat isn’t sounding off the walls. She reapplies her palms to the tile in an effort to steady her hands. Don’t think about it. Just don’t think about it. Don’t-

A towel unexpectedly joins the draped clothes, coming mere inches away from hitting Adora in the head on its descent. She jumps - nearly slips - only barely catching herself in time. It takes everything in her power not to start swearing.

The other stall finally starts going. 

God, Adora feels so hot. She turns her heat down. Two minutes pass, but it's still nearly a sauna… How...

The only sounds are running water and… Catra. Then, a thud. _“Fuck.”_ She must’ve dropped something. Adora stares at the bottom of the divider between them. There are a few inches of space below it, and through this spot, Adora sees a slim hand reach down to pick whatever it is up.

She’s not sure what. She’s watching Catra’s hand. 

_Fingers curling. Almost graceful._

Even though Catra’s scoff isn’t. “Ugh. gross.”

At this point, Adora can hardly breathe. It's just not happening the way it should be. An incessant tingling sensation begins stirring in her stomach. It shifts to burning almost immediately, ripping every direction - _up her chest, down her thighs, fogging her mind._

Another minute or so passes before Adora can break through the feeling enough to turn off her shower handle. She waits with bated breath for a reaction.

A laugh.

A taunt.

A cry, even.

Nothing.

Thank God. Catra doesn’t know it’s her.

Adora quietly continues, grabbing her towel _from its - hint hint, designated hook,_ in order to dry off as quickly as physically possible. It’s not effective, her hands keep slipping. Catra’s breathing - though lower and less audible now - is unbearably enthralling. It’s impossible for the blonde to truly block out.

Eventually, Adora feels dry…ish? Dry enough. Forget her hair. She isn’t sure how she made it this far, but manages to wrap her towel around her body. She pulls back the curtain to her stall, then begins the meticulous process of tip-toeing back towards the lockers.

Heart in throat. Breath frozen in chest. It's swapped. Mixed up. 

Confusing her.

She glances back. 

Catra's shower shuts off unexpectedly quickly, even for her.

This is not what Scorpia meant when she told Adora to wait for Catra to come to her. 

Time to run.


	5. Alone

Catra holds a vast amount of opinions, the majority of which she knows Adora disagrees with. One such view is that to Catra, _showers are thoroughly terrible._ A necessary evil, sure. She’s certainly come to tolerate the experience. However, the sensation of hundreds of droplets of water hitting her body has always been, and always will be anything but relaxing. 

They’re suffocating.

Said suffocation might have something to do with the fact that if she stays in long enough, she tends to become light headed. Dizzy. It’s almost like she can’t breathe from the buzzing anxiety. It’s been this way for as long as she can remember.

Catra isn’t sure why this is the case, but if it sounds like a medical issue? Too bad. She’s not throwing away hundreds of dollars simply to be told she needs to spend even more on medication. It’s not happening. That's just money wasted. It's better used on food or tuition. Maybe when she has a real job, it’ll come with insurance. 

For now? Drinking is cheaper than treatment.

On the topic of showers, this one is done. The aforementioned lightheadedness is finally arriving, and so Catra quickly shuts off her showerhead. For a moment, the silence almost makes her believe that whoever was next to her left - almost. Because it’s not silent, _it’s quiet._ There’s a difference between the two. She strains her ears, and sure enough, there starts the hurried _plod plod_ of feet on tile.

Huh.

The plods are quickly becoming the opposite of quiet. The stranger is scrambling. Stranger...

_She fucking didn’t-_

Catra peers through the crack between curtain and stall just in time to see a whirlwind of idiotic blonde dashing through the door to the main locker room. 

_-She did. She almost fucking falls._

That's how to die, everybody. That's how to slam face first onto the ground, and how to get thirty plus staples to the skull. 

Not stitches.

Staples. 

Catra can hardly believe how dense this idiot is. It’s almost funny how she’d sprinted, but it’s not really. It’s irritating. As per usual, what the fuck, Adora? Now alone, Catra groans as she tugs her towel from the divider and wraps it snugly around her body. She should’ve known. Scorpia was here when she first came in... 

Dressed? 

Scorpia was dressed. 

Waiting there?

 _Ew…_

"Wow, you can't even shower without your fan club. You're such a fucking weirdo..." It's a dull mutter. 

But that settles it, between this experience and the fight earlier, Catra will never run again. She won't ever step foot inside a gym, either. She’s about to leave when she remembers her clothes. Ugh, back into the stall. Then again, maybe she should linger here a few minutes before heading out. Rogelio left early, yikes, so it’s not like anyone is waiting for her. 

Well, there isn’t anything she can do about that now.

-

And she understands that.

But it doesn't help her be any less pissed at what happened. The walk back is brisk, _inflamed,_ and filled with curses. The stupidity of the shower fiasco over, all Catra remembers is Adora. 

_What was Adora thinking?_

_Why the hell did she come over?_

_And why, for God's sake, did she have to talk to Rogelio?_

Nearly home, finally.

Up the stairs. Seven sets. No elevator.

Catra twists her key - hard, because it doesn't work half the time - to unlock the front door of her apartment. She enters and immediately drops her gym stuff by the door with a heavy sigh. All the day’s tension seems to lift from her chest… And then some. Catra loves her apartment, even if she might not like everything that comes along with it. Most notably, her landlord. But she truly does love it, because before this place? She hadn't lived for longer than a year. 

"Hey? You here?”

The call goes unanswered except for Melog, who appears to rub against Catra’s leg with a purr. Fantastic. What’s-her-face, _Catra never bothered to learn her name,_ is never home. She’s at lab, doing clinicals, or suffering through whatever else being pre-med ensues. That’s hardly an issue for Catra though, she prizes her solitude. It soothes her on days like this. Things are silent, the real kind this time. She knows exactly what to do.

Catra enters the kitchen and yanks open the fridge. She’ll make dinner later, it’s time for a beer. It’s never too early to start drinking. Drink opened and firmly in hand, she moves back to the living room and sinks into the comfort of the couch. It’s her favorite spot in the whole apartment - because it marks routine. The one she’s presently following by throwing her feet up onto the coffee table. As Catra’s other hand reaches for the remote, Melog jumps onto her lap. She switches on the television and begins her mindless routine of flipping through channels. 

It’s second nature to her. She knows the drill.

Football is strangely homoerotic, yet somehow, still incredibly boring. _Stupid._

Reruns of sci-fi shows aren’t her thing either. _Dumb._

Then there's that channel with old horror movies. They give her the jitters, shh, that's a secret. _Scary._

Ah, C-SPAN needs no explanation. Is that removable? _Useless._

Catra flips over to college basketball highlights. She feels a twinge of curiosity, makes it all of two seconds, _sees idiot_ \- and hahah, that's a no.

Eventually, she settles for a quiet nature documentary about tigers. She's not much into documentaries, but it'll do as brain bubblegum before diving into homework. She adjusts the volume down to low.

The sun starts dipping below the horizon outside the window, and Catra’s emotions join - dimming as well...numbing...falling away minute by minute. Evenings always do this, and it’s what keeps her going. Her anger ebbs until she’s only at half capacity, the other half an exhausted kind of relief.

She’s relieved to be home.

Even if the gym wasn't fun. Even if Adora enraged her by being a selfish bitch. Even if Catra might’ve lost her newest friends by lashing out. She's not happy with any of that, but...it's over now. Maybe she’s simply resigned to shit like this. It’s how her life is.

There's nothing to do about any of this anymore.

Adora will be Adora. She'll always come - or go - running.

Friends will always be friends. Brief.

There’s something comforting about just embracing reality. In fact, it actually makes it feel semi-laughable. She has one semester left, and then she's out of here. For now, all that should matter is that she has a room to sleep in. Somewhere to decompress. That’s enough to be calm, and that’s good, because she has that.

She has it right here. She scratches Melog’s head.

Catra zones out peacefully for quite some time. It's only as she finishes her beer, she's startled from her reverie. 

_Because knock knock._

_Who's there?_

"Who the-" Catra almost drops her empty bottle. _"-shit._ Who the hell is it!?"

"I don't suggest you speak to me that way." 

Oh shit. Real shit, this time. The deep kind of shit. Catra completely forgot about this. She rises to her feet - _Melog hisses before disappearing_ \- then awkwardly scurries over to the door to jerk it open. 

The moment she does, Shadow Weaver steps in like a dark cloud. Fuck… Her skin is practically grey. It's like she's a zombie, and she's perhaps the one- _the one, singular_ person that Catra finds genuinely terrifying. 

Shadow Weaver shuts the door behind her. As soon as she does, it feels as if all the air has been sucked from the room. "Is Entrapta here?"

Catra stares up into the bitch's cold eyes. "No. It's just me…" And feels an unpleasant tingle run through her body "... Sorry I forgot about this. It's been a busy two weeks."

Her landlord ignores the explanation, instead choosing to gesture at the couch. "Sit, Catra."

Catra obeys. It doesn't feel so comfortable anymore. More like an electric chair. She gulps, dread stuck in her throat. She can't seem to dislodge it. 

_A quiet growl emanates from the television._

Shadow Weaver remains standing. It's probably some twisted dominance thing. "I want this meeting to be brief."

Yeah, that'd be ideal. "What do you want?"

"I've come to discuss your rent." 

Apparently, dread isn't the only problem. It might be a familiar feeling by now, but Catra is never prepared for the way her stomach drops when Shadow Weaver visits. 

She begins chewing her tongue.

Waiting for the other shoe to drop. 

She isn’t going to have to wait long. Her landlord doesn't want to be here anymore than Catra does. "So, yes. Why don't we get to the point.”

“... Sure.”

Shadow Weaver clasps her hands together, looking supremely vindictive. “As you know, I’ve been renovating the sixth floor.” _But this is the seventh…_ “It’s very costly. Therefore,” She smiles. She smiles that fucked up smile. “I’ve decided to increase your monthly payment to $675." 

It’s a slap to the face. No - _worse._ It's one of the few times Catra is nearly speechless. "You... What?" 

And that wording. Her payment. _Catra’s payment._ What about everyone else? It shouldn't be legal. It wouldn't be if she could fucking afford somewhere with a contract. Yeah, there are probably tenant laws that Shadow Weaver is breaking here. What's Catra going to do? Get a fucking lawyer?

This is a sick game.

Shadow Weaver’s smile grows. "I made myself perfectly clear."

_This is fucking funny to her._

Catra has always held herself back with this woman. But there’s a first for everything, and there’s no time like the present. "You…" Her nails dig into the fabric of the couch cushions. She feels the threads begin to tear. "You psycho bitch, you know I can't pay that." 

"I have someone ready to take over who is willing to meet my rent requirements." _So that’s why she waited two weeks to say this._ To fuck Catra over! "Listen carefully, Catra. You'll pay the updated price by next week, or you'll be finding a new place to... inhabit." The amount of disdain in her voice is disgustingly obvious.

Catra stands up just as her landlord starts moving to the door. "That's it, huh. You came here because you wanted to ruin my life! I don't have anywhere to go!"

"Don't be foolish." A dry laugh. "There's plenty of places for people like you. Try the shelter on 5th." 

"You… You're a fucking monster." 

It doesn’t matter. Shadow Weaver isn't phased. "Now now Catra, I can see you have some thinking to do. I think it's time I go." In fact, she looks pleased as she leaves. Happy. 

_"Don't you fucking-!"_

And she's gone. The door clicks shut.

Yes ...

… Yes.

There is a difference between quiet and silent. 

It's at this moment that Catra discovers she cannot tolerate either. Left standing alone, numb, and out of place in her own home. There's too much overload to process at once. So, she feels none of it. Not to say there's nothing there - no, there is. The effects of her earlier exhaustion are certainly lifting. Catra has the worst sensation building in her stomach, like a balloon slowly inflating. It's filled with... Something. It's going to pop. She doesn't want to know what it is. 

_Another beer._

She storms into the kitchen and acquires a second drink, opening the top with trembling hands and immediately downing a third of it in one swallow. 

_Vertigo._

She needs to not be upright, but no more couch. She can't fucking look at it. It's tainted. Ruined by that conversation alone. 

Melog is still nowhere to be found.

Catra lumbers to the dining area, placing her beer onto the wooden breakfast table with a heavy thud. She falls into one of the rickety chairs and pulls her feet up onto the lip - cradling her knees together like a child. 

Her breathing isn't right. 

_She can’t do this._

Another drink. Another third. 

_She can’t handle it._

This is too much. 

_She can't fucking find a new place in a week._

There goes the rest... That was fast. 

_Not in this city._

There's nowhere that's affordable. 

_Catra is fucked._

She’s going to lose everything, probably end up homeless. She'll have to drop out. Why is life so unstable? _It's beginning to remind her of when she was passed around, family to family._ She doubles over in pain - physical and emotional. Becoming an adult was supposed to fix this. But it hasn't.

Things are starting to get fuzzy. Is it the alcohol, the pain, or the panic? She can't tell. All she feels is that thing in her stomach. That balloon… Swelling. 

"Fuck." Her voice is so cracked. _"Fuck."_ She fights the urge to cradle her head in her hands. _"FUCK!"_ The urge to beat on the table. Maybe she does, maybe she doesn’t. Her hands hurt like her insides do. 

That balloon...

Finally bursting, and its contents are a pure mixture of loneliness and hatred. It's acid to her veins, and starts pouring throughout her body. It's fire. There goes the flower vase, smashing into a billion jagged pieces on the floor.

Catra immediately regrets it.

She needs to scream, but there's nobody to scream at. It's a fever. She can't fucking be alone, because she can't deal with herself either. She needs to be held, but there's no one to hold her.

Someone, anyone.

Catra pulls out her phone. 

_Catra: are you there scorpia?_

_Catra: i said i’d text. I’m texting_

She waits, expecting nothing. Nothing arrives. She’s probably with friends. Maybe she's mad. That would be fair. Catra had been damn near cruel.

Guilt joins the fire.

Catra grips her bottle close with one hand, then clicks another chat with the other. She doesn't bother to type anything this time, however. Because the shame is everywhere. Things aren't fine, and so she can't help but allow their names to burn into her eyes until it hurts. 

There's no chance she can reasonably ask Kyle or Rogelio for help. She bets they hate her. Real sorrow hits too - and it coaxes an actual wail from Catra's lips. It's beyond agonizing to know she probably isn’t welcome at Dunchfest anymore… All because of her dumb, stupid public spat with Adora.

_Adora…_

Fuck Adora. Catra exits the messaging app. 

_But Adora would come._

A perverse sense of fury urges her to open settings. Revenge.

 _Because Adora is desperate to talk._

Unless she isn't, after the gym. No. That can't be. 

_Adora will come._

Scroll… Scroll…. Scroll, until - blocked numbers.

Catra's finger hovers, but only for a moment. She should consider this more. But she feels too upset, too tipsy for good decisions. 

Catra mashes unblock.

Fuck it.

_Fuck it._

**_Fuck it._ **

Sent.

_Catra: hey adora_

The lack of immediate reply makes her angry.

So angry. After all this time, she deserves satisfaction.

_Catra: it's time to talk._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go. :)


	6. Storm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright so before you begin, definitely read this. 
> 
> I pinky pinky pinky promise that this is the last of any super hurtful angst. There might be a few moments from here on out, but I know what you all have been waiting for and I fully plan on delivering. :)
> 
> That said, this chapter is long and has the worst of the hurt. Buckle up.

Her phone buzzes, screen lighting up.

But Adora ignores it. 

She wouldn't usually. After all, essays on art are usually a piece of cake. A few texts interspersed here and there wouldn't be a big deal. This one isn't a piece of cake though, because her mind is too chaotic. 

Currently, she's trying to write an one on the fundamentals of baroque architecture - and it's just not happening. What is baroque architecture? Well, Adora has an excellent answer to that, which is that _that is a very good question indeed._ Assuming all goes well, she hopes she'll soon be able to answer it.

She’s only just starting to concentrate when her phone goes off again. She picks it up with the intention of silencing it. Instead, her stomach does a somersault.

_Catra: hey adora_

Holy- 

Adora has to put her phone down, shut her eyes _super duper tight_ then pick it up all over again to make sure that the text is real. That _this_ is happening. She can hardly believe it, but then there's another one. 

_Catra: it's time to talk._

She can't hallucinate two texts. So that means it's happening. It's happening! It's actually, seriously happening! What should she feel!? Excitement? Right, she should probably reply. Let Catra know she saw her texts. Ask for context. Her fingers shake slightly… She hasn't done this in a long time. 

_Adora: Hey Catra! I’m so glad yo-_

Delete. Too happy. 

_Adora: Hey, I’m down. When works best fo-_

Delete. Too casual. 

_Adora: When and where?_

Delete. Too direct.

Adora doesn't get to the sending part of texting, because not fifteen seconds later, Catra's shared location comes through. 

Wait… Does she mean now?

… Then pops up the final text, Catra's apartment number.

Yes. Right now. 

Adora promptly rises from her desk and grabs her athletic coat, hastily typing the only real reply she can after pulling her arms through the sleeves. 

_Adora: I'm coming, Catra._

-

“Catra?” She raps on the door. “I’m here.”

There's shuffling from inside, sort of disjointed footsteps. Adora holds her breath as the door opens. Catra stands there, holding a beer and with tear streaks all down her rosy cheeks. The blonde has never seen her intoxicated before, but now she already knows how Catra gets. Angry and unstable.

Straddling that especially thin line of drunkenness...

“Look whho fucking showed up." … Where she's ninety percent coherent, but entirely unreasonable. Catra's slur is definitely there, but the hostility on her face is more telling. _"Come to rescue mme?"_

Well, this is great. 

“Hey, Catra...” Adora exhales heavily to dispel the inkling that _maybe this is yet another bad idea,_ and pushes inside. The room is a mess. Not in a natural way, more in a...shove everything off tables and onto the floor kind of way. “What’s going on?"

“That’s nnot yourr business.” 

“Okay then.” Adora shuts the door. Then, she plucks the bottle from Catra’s grasp - best get that out of the way. “At least tell me how many of these you’ve had?”

“A few.”

A few, huh. "Well, that’s the last one you’re drinking.” She places the beer on the nearest side table.

Catra doesn't give any signal that she heard Adora, not that it matters. "Fuckk… Myy stomach…” She’s leaning against the nearest wall. At first, it’s for balance. Then, she doesn’t seem to be able to separate from its support. The sober of the two attempts to stabilize her, but the assistance is rejected in favor of sliding down the surface and to the floor - sitting hunched over like. In pain. 

Adora patiently sits down next to her. “I’m here.” 

"I don't want yyou." That's a specific way to phrase that, and the words certainly cut.

But they won't work. Because Catra already made the mistake of letting Adora in, and now she's here…? "I'm not leaving. If you want someone else's help too though, that's okay. Is there anyone you want me to call for you?" 

“No. I don't.” Venomous. "Whyy'd youu think I textedd you?"

No one? “Come on, Catra. Don’t you have any other friends? _What about your parents?"_

She's not even a minute in, but it's like she killed someone. Adora always feels like she’s ten steps behind Catra. It’s not comforting.

The dull hum of life itself vanishes on the spot. Catra's looking up at Adora, eyes wide with the strangest expression. Beyond incredulous. Then- "Are youu kidding mme…?"

"What...?" 

“... Fuuuuck,” A hiss. “Yyou idiot. You jusst had to… I don’t fucckingg have parentss." 

The news is a bombshell, slowly exploding. Maybe imploding. Adora can hardly believe her ears. The ray of guilt of resulting from bringing up the topic is almost immediately overshadowed by a much stronger, and much different band of grief. Because based on the pained look on Catra's face, it's true. She really doesn't have parents either.

Four years… 

Why hadn't Adora known this?

Even when they were friends during their first year - Catra never let it slip. Actually, nobody in their friend group had any idea. They definitely still don't. After all their conversations about Catra, how had they missed this? 

The revelation sparks a throb in Adora’s heart.

Nobody else knows.

Except Adora. 

_Adora knows._

It's painful to think she and Catra have something so awful in common. Something that all throughout their friendship, they had never shared with each other. What an...awful turn of events. 

Sad too, because it's obvious Catra would only tell anyone the truth about her family at a time like this. Drunk.

Yet if there’s anything Adora can help with, surely it’s this. 

It has to be fate. The blonde scooches closer. "I... Catra. I know about that kind pain, please. Let me help you." 

Catra groans. Always resistant. Like she doesn't to hear it. "Fuuuck, shut up already…" 

Adora laces her fingers with Catra's, a strange tingle spreading down her as she does. She's never told anyone this before. "No, really. I get it… The night you found me… It's the one day a year I do stuff like that, and it feels like maybe you finding me was supposed to happen." 

"Adorrraaaa…"

Stop rambling, _do it._ "It… It was the anniversary of when my parents died. So, I get pain. I do."

Catra quiets. She doesn't even try to pry her hand away. Adora expects an odd reply. Probably something she never would've anticipated, but not what actually comes. 

She looks up into Adora's eyes. "I figurred somethingg like that."

_What?_

_She what?_

"Huh...?"

"Yeahh, I knew.” And smiles. Angrily. 

Adora's heart drops sharply. "… You did?"

"C-Careful who youu blab to." Catra laughs. Tone deaf. Cruel. 

Two weeks ago. Adora must have… Oh God. Reality nearly cripples her. It rips through her ribcage like a thousand knives.

How can Catra be so cold? 

Adora tries to shake the feeling, choosing to press on. "Well… _well,_ then you know I understand."

Because Adora has to believe everything will be okay.

Catra waves the thought away, like it's nothing. Like everything Adora went through doesn't matter. "You got rraised byy a nanny, so youu don't understand anythingg. You'rre still a piece of shhit." 

She's in motion now. She gives no other answer - no sympathy. She's simply tearing her hand away from the blonde's.

Adora draws a sharp breath, deciding again to swallow down her pain. _She has to believe everything will be okay._ "I'm trying to be here for you."

"No." Now it's clear, Catra is dragging herself back up, shaky as can be without actually falling over. "Y-You're trying to...to save me."

Adora reaches for her arm, only to be pushed away. "Catra, stop. This isn't about-"

"I won't let youu." 

"This isn't about saving you!" This hurts so badly. When they had coffee, why didn't Catra say anything? Unless - that's why she...said so little? "I won't let you give up. I know you're upset. But you looked out for me, so now I have to look out for you. That was the whole point of the favor thing." 

"Fuck offf." She's shambling towards the kitchen.

"Catra!" Adora pulls herself to her feet too, wiping a tear from her cheek. She hadn't realized how wet her eyes felt. Try try...try again. "What are you doing!?"

"Fuckingg trashhing this place."

"No, Catra. You can't." It's bad enough in here already. Besides, what if she has roommates? 

"What do youu care!? G-Get out!" 

Adora scrambles to beat her to her destination - it's easy to race a drunk - and steps directly in front of her. "You can't destroy your apartment because you're mad at me. I'm already here, you don't have to act like this to get my attention. 

"Not yourss." Catra snarls. "I'm doingg it becausse I hate Shadow Weaverr… Fuccking move."

Who... Never mind. "Either way, I can't let you do this to your home." 

"It's n-not anymore." 

Adora's eyes widen.

_That's it. Catra's losing the place. That's what triggered this mess._

Finally, some context for this insanity. Then, Adora's stomach churns. She probably can't fix this with a simple phone call, or a long talk. "Listen, you're not doing this. We need think up a plan-"

"Fuck! Off!" Catra struggles to move further into the kitchen, but the blonde stands firm. 

Hand holding Catra at bay. 

But her voice is far from confident. "Did you bring me here to force me to watch you ruin your life? What kind of revenge is this? _What did I ever do to you!?"_

It's hysterical.

It gives the drunk enough reason to pause. "What… What did yyou do to me?" Not to be kind. "Youu really want to fucking talk?"

"Yes!" Adora practically cries in desperation. "Please! Stop pushing me away and talk to me!" 

"Fine. Let's talk." It worked. But… She's not looking at Adora. No, she's pulling her phone out. She's… "Whhy I hate Adora, part one. You alreadyy knoww Scorpia sends mme the shit you say." Catra brandishes her phone threateningly, and Adora feels a weight drop in her turbulent stomach. "I haven't realllly read much themm, maybe it's time to, huh?"

Wait, no. 

Catra is right. She knew after the warning earlier today at the gym. But she never considered...

_How much did Scorpia send?_

No. 

"No, Catra-" 

She opens her phone anyways, furiously scrolling. Then, to Adora's horror, she actually starts reading. 

"Hereee we go. **Adora** says:" Catra emphasizes the name. Maybe it's the drunken slur, or maybe it's the venom behind her actions, but it already sounds so angry. _"She wass on top of me whenn I woke up! OMG I've neverr seen her so red."_ A quick swipe for more. "Annnd **Scorpia:** She was totallllly teasing youu..."

Catra looks up, steaming pure hatred. "I-I took you home so youu didn't get raped. I stayed wwith you so you didn't choke on your own v…" It's a hard word for a drunk. "... vomit."

The weight sinks deeper. Before Adora can reply, Catra's back down again. 

"Ohhhh let's see... **You** again: _Hahaha, I still can't believe Catra's studyying comp sci. It's sso cute, I evenn said I code, lololol whho would do that."_

And deeper...

Those loathing eyes dart back up again. "C-Cute? Haha? It's not a joke. It's myy fucking livelihood, Adora. B-Because if I don't get a job, I'mm screwed."

Adora struggles to gather her thoughts, but they're disappearing as quickly as they come. Like water through a sieve. 

"Is it that reallyy so cute to yyou? That I'm neverr sure wheeere the ffuck I'm s-supposed to get the moneyy to live? I didn't have mommyy and daddy's trusst to help me get byy." She releases a harsh cackle.

It's enough for Adora to find words. "Stop, please-"

 **"You:"** A cold interruption. _"I saww her at the gym. She told me nnot to talk about it."_ Then, that scoff. **"Mermista:** _Oooo, be careful. She mighhht get mad."_

Scroll. 

She doesn't feel the need to explain that one.

Tears. 

She scrolls up what must be a few days back, searching.

 **"Perfuma:** _Woww, I saw Catra at the diner. She looks sooo t-tired. I w-o-n-d-e-rrr what's wronggg. Should wwe do something?"_

Screen off. 

"Next time theyy say I l-look tirrred," Catra's hand is shaking too badly to read anything else, so she shoves her phone back in her pocket. Her voice is close to breaking. "You can tell themm I lost myy apartment and am sleepingg in classrooms until I g-get caught."

Adora wipes her eyes first, then processes Catra's words. “You didn't need to do that. I understand now-"

 _"No. Youu don't. I’m nnot done."_ Adora braces herself. "Not until yyou understand I'm not somee fuckingg charity case." 

"Charity case? What are you saying…?" Adora shakes her head, because she doesn't understand at all. This rage isn't the apartment. This rage isn't even the texts. This is.... "I don't-." 

"That's all I've everr been to youu." A growl.

"Catra…"

"An Instagram p-post." A hiss.

"Catra-" 

"A converssation to havve behind myy back." A whisper. 

"Please." 

"Fuck, Adora." A sob, misleading. 'Youu told _EVERYONE._ I fuckingg _TRUSTED_ you!" A roar.

 **This is about that.** "Catra, please, I didn't think-"

"That's right! Youuu didn't think! You didn't think to ask if I wanted themm to knoww! You didn't think a-about whaat it was like for mme to come back to that! Everyone waiting!?!" Her eyes are wild with a terrifying kind of rage that nobody has ever seen before.

"Catra," Adora's voice cracks. "It was- it was a surprise, that's all it was.”

Not to Catra it wasn’t, clearly. "Youu know who they told? Every other fuckingg person in my life. You knoww how many people started treating me d-different?”

… No, she doesn’t know.

"It's n-not so fun when people assume yourr happiness depends on your _richhh best friend._ Not soo fun when they dumb down theirr words, because youknoww, you're one of them noww. A fucking-” Another pause, another big word.

Adora tries to intervene. "I never meant to hur-"

 _“-condition!”_ She’s advancing. The blonde attempts to speak again, but Catra doesn’t let her. "It's not so nnice whenn they stop inviting you to thinggs because y-you're too poor! Fuck, Adora! Do yyou think they everr looked at me the same? I wasn't me anyymore. I wass Catra, who Adora s-saved!" Soon, she's backed Adora up against the closest counter. She feels her legs bump into the surface. Drunken tears stream down the Catra's face. 

_There’s nowhere to go._

_She’s hurting too badly._

_Catra had come back to the dorm that day. Adora, along with everyone else, were waiting expectantly. Thrill raced through the blonde's body. She'd tell her, they'd go, and she'd confess. Within thirty seconds though, anger was raging through Catra. Quiet to rage. None of it made sense. She'd packed up her things that very day only to seemingly vanish._

_Adora didn't get it. She chased after her, and Catra ran further._

_She thought it would blow over, but it didn't._

_Texts went unanswered._

_Days became weeks._

_Weeks became months._

_Months became years._

_Back then, the only possible explanation she could come up with was that maybe Catra had known the plan. Maybe she wasn't interested after all. Maybe it was a preemptive rejection. After seeing Catra blush all these years later, that didn't make any sense. If not that though, then what could-_

_**"YOU HUMILIATED ME!!!"** _

And it hits.

Loudest does not always mean most powerful, but this time it does. Because it hits Adora's heart like nothing before. Not the truth about Catra's parents. Not even Catra's cruelty.

It wasn’t a rejection. Everything she’d done, everything Adora had tried to do for Catra - it…

_Humiliated._

"Catra, I-” There’s no controlling her tears, especially not with Catra seething merely inches away. She's struggling to get her words out fast enough to reach the drunk, but also slow enough to do them justice. “I'm so...so, so sorry... I never wanted to humiliate you. Or- or lose you.”

_Betrayed._

"I hate yyou for all thiis."

_Disrespected._

Adora swallows, unsure how to proceed. She can’t get that day out of her head. It plays on repeat, rewinding and rewinding. She’d never understood until now. She hardly feels the hard edge of the counter digging into the back of her thighs, and the pain isn’t even comparable.

Adora did this. She hurt Catra.

"I hate e-everything about youu." The stuttering is worse than ever, and it’s not the alcohol. Catra’s breath is hot, half from untempered anger. She’s still so close. “You mmake me feel like shit. A-All the time...”

"...Catra…I...”

“But know whaat? I _can’t_ fuckinggg get youu out, Adora. N-No matterr what I do. You'rre everywhere.” Her eyes shimmer. Millimeters. “My bad luckk… So I jusst-"

Nearer.

"-...just...-"

Brushing.

 _ **"-hate**_ you." Completely contrary to literally everything before, Catra closes the distance. 

Entirely.

She melts soft lips onto Adora's, who responds with a shocked jolt. Rigid because she can't believe what's happening.

Rigid because she can taste Catra. 

The salt of their combined tears.

Overwhelming bitterness invades every part of her mouth already, because apparently, Catra is sloppy when outraged. There's a hint of sweetness - maybe what she would taste like any other time - behind Catra's harsh flavor.

With no resistance, the drunk eases Adora further against the kitchen counter, leaning the blonde back to an almost uncomfortable and setting both palms onto her pale jawline. 

Brain kicking into action in time with her heart, Adora is starting to kiss back in earnest when wrathful teeth sink into her lower lip, immobilizing the blonde again.

_She can’t stop the moan._

_“C-Ctra..."_ Her voice sounds throaty and cracked in her chest, even to herself. 

As soon Adora starts to regain control of her limbs once more, those lips are taken away.

It was short.

Angry.

A few seconds of blood rush and pounding pulses keep the two in silence. Then, there’s terror.

Adora looks into large, scared, tear-irritated eyes. “N-Nno…” The drunk frantically stumbles backwards, clearly horrified with herself. She’s too unsteady. 

Tipping.

Tipping way, way too far.

_She's drunk, Adora._

And- 

"Catra!"

-Adora breaks through her paralysis and surges forth, grabbing Catra’s arms. Too late. They both fall to the floor. Adora feels the hard impact on her knees, but ignores it in order to protectively cradle Catra’s head. 

For all that's happened, for all the hate, Catra still kissed her. 

The drunk struggles - but it's weak. “L-Let mme go... I shouldnn’t have- get out-"

_She kissed her._

It spurs new guilt and new determination to explain. 

“Catra. I am so,” Adora's voice breaks. “ _So sorry._ I don’t know how to fix this, but I’m telling you- _I’m begging you to let me stay and help you._ I never meant to hurt you. Please, please… I-I understand.” She’s raining tears onto the other's face. 

She means it more now than ever before. 

From anger to anguish, Catra’s tone shifts too. “I don’t knoww what to do, Adora. I hate howw I feel…"

How she feels.

Adora uses her sleeve to dry her face, then holds Catra closer. "I shouldn't have done that to you. I should've told you from the start. I was downplaying it, and I told everyone because I needed their advice. They wanted to help, because I was trying... To impress you." It’s a confession. 

Obvious to anyone but them. 

The kiss.

This.

Even that stupid vacation.

It’s all just been-

"Im- Impress me?" Her voice is so hoarse. "Withh _that?_ Why the hell?"

"I wanted you to come with me."

Catra looks like she's been hit by a truck. _"What?"_

Adora cups Catra’s cheek. "When you said you couldn't, I didn't know what to do. I liked you, Catra. I was going to tell you. On the trip."

It's the kiss and the kiss alone that opened this door.

Catra succeeds in raising her head after a short struggle with her own body. Her expression is full of disbelief. It doesn't seem like she's sure whether she wants the door open at all. "You're saying...wwe didn't talk...for fourr years...because you're stupid...?"

Another wave.

_Humiliated._

_Betrayed._

_Disrespected._

There's no other way around it. "...I guess so." 

_"Ffuck..."_ She drops her head back down to Adora’s lap. So deflated. "That was yourr plan...? Tell everyonne I'm poor? Have them ambush me? Take mme to Costa Rica and win my hearrt?" Despite the confession, Catra's still managing to bring up a small amount of rage to eye Adora with. "You had n-no right to tell themm.”

Adora bites her lip. Clearly, she shouldn't have said anything all those years ago. _But how was she supposed to know Catra would hate a free vacation so much?_ "I was… I was excited. It was going to be a surprise from all of us. Because we cared." She knows her next words won't help, but they're the truth. "... I didn't think it was a big deal." 

And the truth must be said. 

_"That's...d...degrading."_

Always. Even when it hurts.

"I get it. You have no idea how I'm sorry I am. I can't take back what I did." Adora feels so choked up. "I can only be here now."

Catra doesn't reply. Her breathing slows, maybe she's thinking about accepting the apology. But if she is, she gives no outward sign. She calms down bit by bit, eyes glazing over.

So many thoughts swirl around the room. Some shared - the darkest, however, likely not.

All of Adora’s are fueled by heartbreak.

… What she did. Her stupidity.

The weight in her stomach.

… What Catra said. That cruelty.

The hole in her heart.

… The kiss. Those feelings.

She's about to say something else in the realm of another apology, but notices Catra is staring at the ceiling fan.

"Are you okay…?"

Dumb question. 

“I’m just sso fucked… So fucked, Adora… Thiss place...”

Honest answer. 

The apartment. The yelling had wiped it completely from her mind. They're back, full circle. 

The apartment… It’s why she’s even here. Adora struggles to push her own turmoil - _the hurt, the upset, the kiss_ \- away to focus on the woman she’s holding. Because now she's deflated, Catra is somewhere much different than Adora, the present. A place of fear, and much more immediate in terms of her future. That's fair. "... Where are you going to go?"

"I told you, classsrooms.” Catra groans.

She was serious about that? Not that- not that Adora thought she was joking. But that's insane.

That's just… “That’s not happening.”

Catra glares up at Adora. “What, you gonna threatenn myy landlord? You’re too pussyy…”

True, Adora is too pussy to threaten a total stranger. But she’s not gutless - she can stand up to people, even Catra. She can help her. She can-

“No. I'm not letting you be homeless."

_-what on Earth is she doing?_

The drunk frowns. "We... We just talked about yourr savior shit..." 

"Move in with me." Apparently, not even Adora knows. It slips out faster than she can stop it. Yes, great idea. Move in the possibly alcoholic, prone to rage, romantically confused ex best friend. “... Please.”

_She just can't have her alone._

_In pain._

_With nowhere to go._

Catra squints. "Are youu… Are youu brain damaged…?”

_Oh yeah, she also loves to insult her too. Great. Idea._

Adora puffs out her chest. "No, I mean it. Move in with me."

".... Did you hearr... anything...about whaat I told you?" 

Yes.

Adora heard all of it, actually. Maybe she can use this. She nods, feigning confidence. "I hurt you, I get that. So let me make it up to you. Besides, I meant it when I said I owed you a favor. It's fair… Please, Catra."

Catra doesn't look convinced, like she's doing mental math in her head to figure out how many of Adora's favors would be equal to one of hers. It takes a few seconds before she comes to a conclusion. "Thaaat doesn't feel fairr…"

"I can't live with you being hom-..." _No, not that._ "You don't deserve to be in this situation. I won't...do anything else. You can…" She definitely won't accept the bed if she's this anti-heroism, real or imagined. "...have the couch." 

_"Uh huhhh."_

"I won't help you find a new apartment either." That's the one that Catra's focus catches onto. It's strange making an argument for this with its key points consisting entirely of unhelpful behavior. "We don't have to talk while you're there either. Just- just think about it." 

Catra goes quiet for the second time this evening. “Youu… Wouldn’t help mme?”

“Not unless you wanted me to." Why is she like this? How was Adora supposed to guess _this?_

Apparently, that's what Catra needed to hear. She thinks for a moment, then very, _very_ hesitantly… "... If I sayyyes, youu can't t-tell anyone." 

"I promise I won't."

"If Scorpia-"

"I won't, I won't." It's clearly a pride thing for Catra. "No one will know." That doesn't make it feel any less weird. 

Pride.

So stupid.

Adora feels another twang of guilt, because pride is powerful. Pride made the last four years.

"... Mmm…” 

Mmm what?

Hope. “Pleaaase…?" Adora adopts the long whine she used to do to annoy Catra. A dangerous play.

A gamble to egg her along.

"... Ughh.... Fine." 

"Oh fuck." A fuck of relief. It's a slip up, whatever. Today is officially exempt from the no swearing rule. "Okay, thank you. _Thank you."_

"Don't ruinn it." Catra rolls her eyes. “I still don’t like youu… You’re a sselfish… Entitled-”

"Catra, I'm glad, but that's enough." The warning is firm. Adora is done with the insults.

Like.

Really done with them. 

Shockingly, Catra actually shuts up. She may even look a little guilty. No apology, though - which is a bad look. Logically, Adora knows there were a million easier ways to deal with this. Catra's drunkenness is only so much of an excuse. Her pain, only so much of a reason. The things she said hurt. Even though Adora did invite her to stay, there's no way around that particular hurt. It's upsetting. 

But that's another issue for another day. They'll have to deal with that later.

"... So… if I'mm giving into yourr hero thingg…" 

"It's called a favor, Catra." Adora corrects. 

"Whenn can I move innn…?" Oh wow, quick swap. At least she's really committing to her decision, that's good. 

"When do you want to?"

Catra's only reply is a look that clearly says: _if you don't get me out of here this instant, I'm going to continue on trying to destroy everything._

The look is a crooked smile, if that's unclear.

Adora remembers the state of the living room when she first walked in. "Right… Uh…" Now it is. "I think I'm going to call for a car out front…. And… Your stuff." Reminder, a lot of things are on the ground. "We'll deal with all that when you're sober."

Catra nods weakly.

_When she's sober._

It'll be a sight for sore eyes, because Catra behaves better while sober. This version of her is simply exhausting. Adora will have to put an alcohol ban on Catra for at least a week. Imagine having a conversation like this one again...

"Wait, Catra?"

"Whaat?"

"Are you going to forget this tomorrow?"

The drunk shrugs completely unconcernedly. "Fifty fifty chancce…"

Ah, so if she wakes up and does forget this conversation, everything will be peachy then? No fighting? 

"Okay…" Oh well, she's just going to have to trust the universe to throw them a bone come morning. 

Adora pulls up the nearest taxi service on her phone. It's going to be difficult getting Catra down seven flights of stairs. It'll probably take everything out of her. 

The thought of navigating _that_ almost eclipses Adora's hope for the future, and her goal of talking to a sober version of Catra. It's almost certain that the drunk will try to fling herself off over the railing at least once. 

Seven flights. 

Jeez, how's she supposed to do that?

"Oh...! Adorrra! Don't forrget Mmelog."

_What?_

"Who's Melog?" 

"Myy cat. Don't forget..." So matter of fact...

Adora looks around. Sure enough, there are two little beady eyes staring at them both from the farthest and darkest corner. Right, right. Seven flights of stairs, one drunk woman, and a cat. Piece of cake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hhhhzjzjz that's alotttta words. I had like 10 different drafts/various versions of this chapter. I wrote for so damn long that I can't tell you who Catra and Adora are anymore. I hope it paid off!


	7. Trust

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So… I get the sense… Y'all might be a bit mad at Catra...
> 
> Well, welcome back to her POV. Here's 7. Lots of different stuff here. Awkward, lil humor, a bit of angst. Mayyybe a bit more than I intended. That said, don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten that I promised that future angst wouldn’t be the super hurtful kind, and I’m keeping to that. No more spiraling downwards. 
> 
> I sincerely hope you all enjoy!

She remembers. At least, she thinks she does. A swell of embarrassment almost overwhelms her, because she can see every damn detail. Hear every word. Feel every moment. 

Catra eventually opens her eyes to...oh no, never mind… She doesn’t remember how she got here, laying on Adora’s couch. That means she blacked out at a certain point after all. She starts trying to piece together what might be missing, but it isn’t coming. Oh, and _the kiss._ That just came back, fuck. Why the fuck did she agree to this? 

_She could leave, but what good has that done her lately?_

She fights the urge to sneak out, then squints to block out some of that awful sunlight. It’s only now she notices Adora, who is sitting almost slumped over on the ground - next to the couch.

“Psst.” Catra pokes the back of her head. “Adora.”

Adora sleepily raises her head. “Hmm…?” 

"What are you doing?”

"I-” A slow yawn. “-I'm waiting for you to wake up." 

No, Catra just waited for _her_ to wake up.

Still, "So you’ve been sitting here?”

"Yeah?” Adora massages her neck. “You did the same thing for me.”

Untrue, that was totally different. Catra had been pulled into that embrace. “I did not do the same thing.”

Adora shrugs, then begins to clamber to her feet. Guess they’re up now. Catra grudgingly follows suit, doing her best just to sit up. Fuck hangovers. Then, she sees the marks. 

She can’t stop staring.

Adora notices the other’s fixation, but doesn’t offer any real reassurance. Only an explanation. "I didn't forget Melog." There’s scratches, _bad ones,_ all down her forearms. "I guess I'm not really a cat person."

That’s for certain. Ugh. Of course Adora didn’t forget. Of course she chased Melog around the apartment. Of course she got herself cut up...

“Listen,” The blonde’s tone is strange. Distant? Yes, but also no. More like… Trying to be distant. “I’m going to make breakfast, but once you’re feeling better, we’re going back to clean up and get your stuff."

Oh right, the stuff. Know what? _Fuck the stuff._ If Melog is here, then Catra's good. Assuming she doesn't drop out, she can limp through the rest of the semester using library computers. She'll just have to wash her clothes a lot, too.

It wasn’t even a minute ago that she was cursing herself for being here, so it feels pretty strange that she’s already so resistant to returning to her old place. "I thought I moved in?"

“Part of moving in is moving out, Catra.” 

"I don't want to go back there." The point is that the thought of potentially crossing paths with Shadow Weaver is simply unacceptable. 

"No, we're doing this." There’s no waver in Adora’s voice. She thought about this. Planned this little speech. "You don't get to run away from it. We're going back there, packing your stuff, and cleaning up that mess. Because it's the right thing to do."

Right thing to do _this,_ right thing to do _that._ Ah fuck, she must be mad at her. What does she want? An apology? Catra feels that familiar embarrassment bubble in her stomach. Damn it.

_Shadow Weaver...really...._

Adora isn’t backing down.

"Fine."

At least not by much. “Like I said last night… If you don’t want to talk after this, I’ll leave you alone. But please, since I’m helping you out? Lay off the insults.”

Helping. Right.

_“Fine.”_

Pussy.

-

Catra wasn’t sure whether company would be a blessing or not, but as it turns out, she doesn’t get to find out. Entrapta isn't here. Maybe she came home last night, maybe she didn't. Either way, she's not around now. The mess, however, definitely still is. It looks way worse in the daytime.

"I'll get some bags." Adora is already off, on her little mission. Still trying to be cold. 

Which is dumb, because Catra only told her what she wanted to to hear. The idiot wanted to know what she did wrong. She asked a thousand times. God damn, why is Catra feeling like this? Bad. Acutely bad. She remains standing near the front door, lost in that bad feeling. Embarrassed. Slightly angry. Maybe even guilty.

Soon, Adora returns from the kitchen with two large trash bags. "Let's clean up the broken stuff first, then sort what you want to bring back second." 

Why can’t they throw it all away? 

Despite the thought, Catra takes her bag. She’s been roped into this, there’s no stopping it until it’s over. All that’s left is to clean up… Everything here. 

She starts with the beer bottles. They’re the easiest to manage, even if there are a lot of them. Adora is already at the broken vase, like she’s got something to prove by dealing with the pointiest crap.

"I don't get why you do stuff like this." Catra grumbles under her breath.

Apparently, not quietly enough. "And I don't know why you keep confusing being nice with heroism."

"I mean how you keep trying to fix shit." 

Adora pauses picking up shards. "I'm not fixing this. I just…" Oh look, she's thinking before she's speaking. How miraculous. "Pushed you in the right direction?"

Right direction, uh huh. "Who said this is the right direction?"

More hard thinking. It must be hard for her, having to think so deeply right now. "Look, I- I can't actually make you do anything. All I’m saying is that you wouldn’t be here if you didn’t want to be.” Funny, because it definitely feels like Adora dragged her here. 

Whatever.

They don’t talk after that. Catra clears up the torn remnants of several books she’d pulled off the shelf. She places everything she’d swept off the coffee table, as well as the dining table. She throws out a broken pen, then tries to scrub its ink off the rug. That one is a lost cause…

She works diligently for at least fifteen minutes before things start to come together, but when they do, they do. It really does actually look better in here than before. It reminds her of when she used to be proud of the damn place. It’s practically peaceful.

_Peaceful._

Wait, where is-

“Adora?” Catra wanders into the hall leading to the bedrooms. It’s not a big place, so if she’s not in the living room or kitchen...

Yeah, Adora is inside her room, next to the dresser. “I was checking to see if you’d gotten anywhere else...” It’s kind of a mumble, she’s focused on something she’s holding.

Catra looks around. Her memory hadn't failed her. The room is pristine, which is nice. Nothing touched, nothing destroyed. Honestly, it’s kind of a relief. 

"Catra?" It’s only now the brunette realizes that Adora is holding up- the stupid fucking photo. Christ. "Did you _steal_ this?"

She has the weirdest look on her face. It’s not clear whether it’s amusement, disappointment, or something much worse.

"... That depends on your definition of stealing."

"You took it from my room." Catra did do that, but.

It’s not stealing if it’s a photo of herself. That’s just recovering something. Besides, “You didn't notice it was gone when I took it." 

“Catra…” Adora’s face falls. 

A moment of hurt, tension. Jesus- "Fuck, forget I said that. Just take it. Sorry… _Sorry I stole it.”_

… Sorry. It slipped out. 

Adora looks like she just saw someone die and come back to life. She unsuccessfully tries to hide it, then gives up and stares back down at the photo. A testament to better times. She seems to consider it. Her fingers trace over its surface.

Much to Catra's surprise, and in what must be a tremendous moment of thought for the blonde, Adora smiles and extends the photograph back. "I hope you took it for a good reason."

She’s- she’s letting her keep it? _Why?_ What the fuck spurred that!?

With great hesitancy, Catra accepts the gesture. "Fuck... How are you so optimistic?" _Back in the pocket._

"Just am, I guess.” 

What a motto… It’s not like she should’ve expected something deep or philosophical. It’s still bullshit though, because "just am" will never suffice. Well… It shouldn’t.

Catra fidgets with her fingers. Unsure, uncomfortable, and with eyes averted. "... You must believe in me an awful lot."

"I do.” With those words, Adora’s firmness seems to shift something the brunette secretly hopes is more emotionally open. Reassuring, not alienating. She doesn’t wait for a thank you, however. Good. She’s not getting one. Not even if she’s smiling like _that,_ peppiness restored by at least fifty percent. “So! That basically it for the major clean up job?” 

“Yeah.” Adora believes in her… This is too weird, never mind. “Let’s… Start sorting what to pack up.”

So, they do. They begin on opposite sides of the room, Adora occasionally checking in. Laptop? Yes. Broken laptop…? Also yes…? Catra can’t believe she has to explain _that it’s for the spare parts_ to this thoroughly confused rich white girl. It’s easier to explain throwing out the bent fork under the bed.

They work fairly efficiently, temporarily piling necessities on the bed, _Catra needs to find her luggage soon_ \- until they’re both back where they started. The dresser.

Bad move, because it’s the clothing that Adora gets stuck on. Yes, surprise, Adora. It's her hands that are excitedly rummaging through the drawers. Catra doesn't remember the blonde being a clothing person, at least not when it comes to herself. She doesn't know shit besides athletic jackets and overpriced jeans. But this? This is different. It’s nuts. She’s way too into this, like it's a high.

Why the fuck is she so happy?

“What? You want to get rid of these?” She’s holding up a pair of overalls Catra just discarded. “They’re adorable.”

Catra is trying to sort socks. “They’re from high school, and they’re from a phase. I’m not wearing them.”

“Oh, so even you go through phases? Does that mean you’re in one now?” Yeah, Catra would happily go back to less happy Adora. 

After a low growl, the blonde sighs and shoves the clothing into her trash bag.

A few minutes of quiet sorting go by, but Catra knows it’s coming. Now Adora’s softened, she keeps opening her mouth, then stupidly closing it. It’s happened at least three times. Catra is deciding which pairs of socks to keep and which to toss when idiot musters the courage to ask.

"Catra?"

She knows Adora wants to ask about _that,_ but that's going to be harder to pry from her lips than getting Melog down seven flights of stairs. It’s not even twenty four hours later. Can't this wait? Can't idiot develop a little more patience? It’s too early for this shit.

"What’s up?"

Adora scrunches up her face, mindlessly digging her hand into the other end of Catra’s shirt drawer. "If you remember last night… What was the, uh…” Don’t say it. Don’t bring that shit up. “The you know…”

Christ, is this girl in middle school or what?

A sudden cry relieves Catra of her responsibility to deflect, but it’s not a relief in any other way. Because the sound is pained. She drops her socks, head snapping up to see- “Adora! _What the fuck!?”_

"Why do you have a knife in here!?" She’s holding her hand up, and on her palm- shit! It’s not huge, but that cut is the bloody as fuck kind. “And why doesn’t it have a cover!?”

Catra lost the sheath years ago. It vanished. The stupid thing is supposed to be hidden under some clothes - for self defense. She forgot it was in there, though. Of course Adora had to be pulled towards it like fucking gravity. First the cat, now the knife.

“Fuck, stay here!" Catra practically sprints to the bathroom for her first aid kit.

Please be a good investment.

Under the sink.

 _She’s going to have to come back to get her toiletries,_ she makes a note not to forget. 

There, got it, plus one more thing. 

When Catra runs back in, Adora’s bled a good puddle onto the floor. Is she stupid? Cradle it or something. Fuck, just-

“Give me your hand.” She’s got a towel and bandages at the ready.

“Wait, wait! Shouldn’t we wash it out first?”

“No.” Catra applies pressure with the towel. _Look, it’s the best she’s got,_ the gauze is for after it’s clean. A band aid isn’t going to do the trick here. “We stop the bleeding, then rinse it. If we do it now it’ll make it worse.”

No objections. Adora allows the care, totally slack jawed other than the occasional wince. Better than fighting it. Seriously, she’s fixated until the cut is no longer bleeding.

"You should probably learn first aid." Catra bunches up the bloody towel. "You play basketball, one of these days you'll need it."

Adora nods, still looking dazed. What, does blood make her dizzy? Sick? Catra is not cleaning up throw up. Blue eyes drift over to the knife she’d tried to pick up like some t-shirt. "Uh… So…"

"What?" 

"You were drunk last night." Yeah, duh. They both know that. Adora got a cut, not a concussion. What the hell? "... How many hidden knives do you own?"

_Ohhhh._

Hah. Right, because if she’s got one in her dresser… There's probably more. Then add in the whole being drunk thing... That's just too fucking funny. A bit twisted - _okay, really fucking dark_ \- because Adora's got a fair point, but Catra can't resist. She cracks a grin. "I probably shouldn't tell you about the gun."

Worth it. There's the panic, and Adora looks like she's about to have a heart attack. She starts to blubber _something_ at lightning speed, but Catra cuts her off before she can get too far. 

"I'm kidding! Really, I'm just fucking with you. Calm down. I don’t own a gun." Wow, that was great. "Anyways," How many does she have again? "I think I have four knives, two in the bedroom. I should get the other one so you don't fuck up twice."

"Catra, holy… Those are not coming back to my apartment, let me tell you that. Why do you have so many of them???"

Braindead. Catra swears Adora braindead. She wouldn’t know the good side of town from the bad side if they were labelled on a map. Catra rolls her eyes. 

"Have you seen this place?" Seriously, look at it. "Everybody here has weapons, whether they live here or not. It's not like I have a choice." 

Adora doesn’t seem to know what to say. They stare at each other for a moment, until the blonde is...smiling? Giggling? Okay, idiot. Go ahead and do that, even though it isn't funny at all. 

Then, "God… I'm so stupid…" It’s at this point that Adora starts to actually laugh. “I didn’t think…”

Oh.

“Yeah, heh, you are.” Maybe Catra’s just as fucked up too, because she can’t suppress laughing either.

No, it’s not appropriate at all. It probably started as a nervous reaction, but now it's not. It's just pent up shit spewing out. So here they are, standing. Having a shits and giggles party about knives. Poverty. Ah fuck... 

Fuck…

Adora cares, doesn’t she…

Not in the selfish way. Why else would they be here? Why else would she have bled all over the floor? Why else would she...

The party is over. It must have been Catra who stopped first, based on Adora’s deadly serious expression. “Catra…?”

“I'm…" Catra shuffles her feet, realizing she has tears welling in her eyes. Realizing that pit in her chest. "...Sorry my knife cut you.”

Adora tilts her head. “You don’t need t-”

 _“I’m sorry I yelled at you."_

A short hesitation.

"... It's okay." But it sounds real. Like she means it.

"And I'm sorry…-"

"Hey, hey- Catra-" Adora cups Catra's cheek with her good hand. 

"-... I ignored you…"

 _"You're right."_ Ouch. It’s enough to shut Catra up. It’s obviously also enough to give Adora time to consider her words. "What you did hurt. This… This is going to take a lot for us to work through. Still, I’m here." She moves her thumb to wipe away Catra's tears. "And you’re a good person. I know you said what you said… But I don’t hate you.”

_Fuck…_

Catra gazes up into those eyes. Who fucking knew Adora could be like this?

“Also…” The blonde adopts an uneasy smile. "I know you heard it already, but now you’re sober, I'm sorry I texted about you, and… Got everyone involved in your life. The money...and stuff…"

That whole thing… 

“Yeah…” Mm, that was pretty shit of her. Catra wishes it hadn’t been brought up at all.

Adora lets her hand fall from Catra’s cheek, troubled.

It takes a few seconds for either of them to rev up again. "... Would you have gone if it had just been from me?"

It’s an understandable question.

Sadly, it’s one that doesn't require any thought. "No."

"Oh." Because that's just not the type of person Catra is. She would’ve had to pay for it herself, and that’s final. Especially in Freshman year… "... So, my plan was doomed anyway." Adora chuckles a little. "That's comforting, somehow." 

What a plan it was.

"Did they really treat you differently?"

 _What kind of question is that?_

Is it that hard to understand?

The barrage is getting annoying. 

"Adora," A sharp glare. "How do people act around you when they find out how rich you are?"

"Alright, I got it. I'm sorry." The look of pain on Adora’s face goes directly to Catra’s heart.

Damn it.

God damn it. 

Catra exhales heavily, letting her edge fade away. "It's…." It's not alright. But it's… "It's okay. I shouldn't have… I should've just told you."

"... Why didn't you?"

_It’s one thing when hurt is expected…like in the system._

Should she say? 

_Another when it’s not…like then._

Should she trust…?

"It hurt, Adora." It's hardly a whisper. "It hurt me more than anything anyone's ever done to me. So, I couldn’t." 

And that's it, it’s decided. She couldn’t - that's the truth, and that’s going to be final. Assuming she doesn’t get shit faced again, that’s all Catra will ever say about that from now until she dies. Her eyes start to sting all over again. 

She doesn’t want the hug, even if she needs it.

"Hey, Catra. It's okay."

No, she is not going to break down in front of Adora. Not again.

"You're alright."

She is not going.

"I'm here." 

To break down.

"We’re going to be okay."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huzzah


	8. Listen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The story has been expanded slightly, now it'll be 11-13 chapters, because there is something I want to do that I can't in 10.

When it comes to relationships, and when it comes to Catra, what does the word "couldn't" imply? As opposed to the word "didn't."

 _Didn't_ means didn't want to. 

_Couldn't_ means couldn't bear to. 

It’s vital to understand the difference. Because after the screaming, the crying, the insults and all prior tears… After four years, Adora had assumed Catra's behavior had been predicated on that word - didn't.

Catra didn't. 

She _didn't_ want to talk to Adora. 

She _didn't_ want to see her. 

She _didn't_ want to explain herself. 

She _didn't_ want help. 

She _didn't_ want to trust. 

But that's not what happened.

"It hurt, Adora." Catra's confession is barely more than a whisper. "It hurt me more than anything anyone's ever done to me. So, I couldn’t."

What actually happened is that Catra couldn't, she just said it. 

She _couldn't_ talk to Adora. 

She _couldn't_ see her. 

She _couldn't_ explain herself. 

She _couldn't_ accept help. 

She _couldn't_ trust.

The distinction between didn't and couldn't matters more than Adora could have ever known. It's a knife to her chest, because couldn't also implies Catra had already been hurt, that their relationship had begun to erode long before their that fateful day - something she once never considered before now.

But now? Now she remembers when Catra slipped away from parties without saying anything. Or worse, all those countless times Adora **_didn't_** listen when Catra tried to explain that she **_couldn't_** do something. 

It was bad enough to finally recognize she had humiliated Catra four years ago, but it's another to understand that it wasn't just once. "It" wasn't only that day, it was every day, wasn't it? Every day, another bit of trust lost. No wonder Catra hadn't come back. The guilt is almost overwhelming - until that is, Adora realizes Catra is crying. 

She's here. 

Adora rips herself from her fears, consciously choosing to live in the present. 

Because Catra is here, crying. It's this version of her, four years later - who apologized for yelling, and who just trusted Adora enough to tell her the truth. For every time the blonde couldn't be there for her, it's about time that she can. She has to be strong. That is the difference between Catra and Adora. 

The fundamental trait that divides them. 

As much as the truth terrifies her, it's at this moment that Adora decides there's nothing more important than not to wallow. She can't change the past.

And Catra trusts her now.

For all the hurt that accompanies the truth, for all the couldn'ts, Catra trusts her with the truth _now._

Adora is met with little resistance when she pulls the crying woman into an embrace. "Hey, Catra. It's okay. You're alright…" She's surer than ever that Catra is truly a good person. "I'm here. We’re going to be okay.” 

Who deserves to feel safe, and loved.

She is going to make sure the woman in her arms gets through this. The woman who shakes with stifled sobs. The woman who can’t hide them any longer, and so buries her face into Adora's chest.

“I-I’m not talking about the past anymore. Don’t make me, please...” Muffled. Choked.

“Shh… Sh. I know... I’m… I'm sorry I asked." She is sorry, in every sense of the word. Nevertheless, Adora strokes Catra's hair. “But we’ll be okay. We’ll figure this out.”

And it is okay, _it has to be okay,_ because the future is all Adora can change.

“You promise…?” Catra tilts her head up. 

All she has to do is convince Catra to give it a fighting chance. 

“I promise.” Adora assures, doing her best to smile down into shimmering eyes. "From now on, you tell me when you're upset, and I'll listen." 

… For all the times she didn't. 

"Okay..." Breathy. 

They both take several seconds to search for something in one another. Perhaps evidence of a lie, but neither seem to find it. 

"...Okay…" Catra says it again, still processing. The brunette finally clears her throat, choosing this moment to end their embrace and pull herself together. "Okay," A final time. A leap of faith. "I… I trust you… I can try." 

_She trusts her, ah, that word again. Comforting…_

A low hum in her chest, Adora's hands linger before she forces them down to her sides. "I-I'm glad, because I'm going to do my best too. We can do this, together."

"Thank you..." It's a quivering voice trying to imitate its normal state. Funny, it'll never sound right if she's being grateful. Catra wipes her eyes, hurrying to erase any evidence of her tears. It's going to take more than that considering her sniffles, red eyes, and awkward posture. "I guess we should finish." 

_Yeah… Guess so._

The end of packing is more efficient than the start. Quiet. Determined. Catra leaves the room for a few minutes to find her luggage as well as an old backpack, and the two of them work to stuff everything inside. 

As it turns out, everything isn’t a lot.

"Are you sure you don't want to bring anything else?"

Catra nods, having regained some of her confidence. "Yeah, let's wash out your cut and wrap it, then we can finally get the hell out of here."

Her cut.

Adora totally forgot about her injury. A consequence of Catra's apology...and crying… "Um… Do you think it'll need stitches?"

It's not that big, but frankly it's kind of deep. None of the cuts and bruises she's picked up over the years compare to it. It kind of… Throbs? 

"Nothing needs stitches." Encouraging. Uh huh. Definitely not the truth.

Catra takes Adora's good hand - _woahkay,_ unexpected - and leads her to the bathroom sink, turning the water on at little more than a trickle. 

It stings. Adora isn't going to admit it stings. Even in this state, Catra would probably laugh at her. She's feeling very pleased with herself until Catra grabs her hand once more in order to dry it, and oh man, that hurts. She can’t hide that wince. 

"You're already dumb, don't be a baby too." There's not too much umph behind Catra's words, but hey, at least she's trying - and is that a smirk? 

The gauze is the finishing touch.

"Thanks for that." Adora tests the wrap, it's more than solid. Should she have expected anything less...? 

That’s everything, isn’t it. 

There’s nothing left to do here. They come to a silent agreement that it is finally time to leave. So, seven flights of stairs it is. _Thank God it’s the last time, or it might be wise to look into firefighting._ At least Catra accepts help with her stuff, even if Adora only gets the backpack. When they finally make it outside the building, Catra takes a detour to the nearest dumpster. Apparently, to dump her knives. She really did have four. 

Actually, no. She's still holding one. "Are you sure I can't keep the switchblade?" 

It's undoubtedly the smallest, but also, "They're illegal, Catra." 

"You know kitchen knives are knives too, right? You have those. Why's this different?" 

Tempting, but no. It's the one rule Adora's going to stick to, especially if the pain in her hand has anything to say about it. Which it does. 

She holds up her bandaged hand.

The message is clear. "Yeah yeah." Catra tosses it into the dumpster with a pained grumble. "Alright."

They walk back towards the road. 

"Do you want me to call a taxi?" If this part of town is as bad as Catra says...

"No, that's expensive." 

… Oh well. Adora had a feeling she'd say that. She’ll probably only get away with it when Catra is drunk.

Well, okay. That’s fine. It’s not that far of a walk. They start off towards Mystacor in silence. One block down, and maybe they should've kept one of the knives, just for a little bit… The _click click click_ of the luggage's wheels on the sidewalk is the loudest sound. Two blocks… Three, and Adora thinks less about getting mugged, and more about anything she can say to break the tension. 

She's about to ask something terrible, probably like: “what’s the best programming language?” But Catra relieves her of the awkwardness. 

"Hey, Adora?"

"What's up?" 

"I… Look." She's a little stunted. Wringing her hands. Can’t make eye contact, that sort of thing. "I'm not really...used to having a lot. I thought I was fine with cutting my losses... But going back there and getting everything? I realized that's… Well.” A defeated sigh. “Thanks." 

It's so, so strange hearing Catra continue to be grateful to her. It’s in stark contrast to Adora’s guilt, but at least it can do something to assuage it.

And hey, it's also an opportunity to lighten the mood. "I mean, I couldn’t let you avoid doing your schoolwork forever." 

Or so she hopes.

Thankfully, Catra chuckles. "I told myself I'd work at the library if I didn't get my laptop."

"Something tells me that wouldn't end well."

"Nope. I think I'd drop out, heh." She lets out another amused something, but Adora finds this one less funny.

What's also not funny is remembering her own homework. Darn. "Remind me that I have to finish an essay tonight." 

They pass the Fright Zone. Adora didn't realize Catra lived so close to it, and it might answer the question of why she was ever there to save her in the first place. Her attention snaps back at the sound of Catra scoffing. 

"Shit. You actually write those?" She looks genuinely shocked. 

"What do you mean, 'you actually write those?' They're essays." 

"I figured you paid someone to do them for you or something." 

… Whaaat? This isn’t a college flick. _Adora isn’t trying to get expelled._ If it were anyone else assuming this, she would be annoyed. If it were anyone else _only._ Knowing Catra is just as bad when it comes to stereotyping is hilarious. Frankly, the blonde isn't at all sorry - although thoroughly surprised - in thinking it's cute. 

"Nope, sorry to disappoint you." Adora smiles. "I have integrity." 

… Even if she doesn't know what the hell she's writing ninety percent of the time. 

"That's stupid," Catra rolls her eyes. "You wouldn't even have to pay for it. You're so damn popular and nice, there's probably plenty of people who would do it for free."

 _A flutter inside._

"I'll think on that." 

The rest of the walk home becomes quite relaxed. Catra starts to open up, pointing out her favorite places to hang out. There's a skatepark, some of the people there let Catra borrow their skateboards - how generous, and also, _she skateboards?_ \- on weekends. She wants to buy one of her own someday, even though she doesn't have much time for it anymore, between school, homework, and a part-time job. It's funny, Adora is pretty much taking up all of her free time - and Catra doesn't seem to mind. 

She doesn't seem to mind at all when she shows Adora her favorite deli. She hardly eats out, but when she does? It's there. It's a treat for passing each semester, or maybe if she doesn't flunk a particularly hard test. 

Adora listens. 

Patiently. 

Taking in all these things she didn't know. 

It's almost disappointing when they finally reach Mystacor, because then Catra goes quiet again. 

"Welcome home, I guess?" Adora chooses not to mention that she's going to have to bribe the front desk for another working keycard. Catra is an illegal tenant, and if she won't let Adora get them a taxi, she probably wouldn't like what it costs to break the law.

Break the law. _Whew…_ Adora's never done that before. Suddenly, she realizes that she's standing alone in the living room. 

What in the...

Catra still is by the door, swaying slightly.

… Uncertain? Scared? 

Definitely not relaxed.

Maybe claustrophobia? Anxiety?

"Hey..." As she has many, many times before, Adora gets the sense that she's missing something. She returns to Catra and lightly pries her luggage from her fingers. "Hey, are you okay?" 

A pause, then a shudder, "No." Catra braces herself against the wall, breathing heavily. She can't seem to look deeper into the apartment, let alone allow herself to believe this is real.

_Was it something Adora said? She's hardly said anything...that’s...kind of been the point._

Yeah, it's not clear what's happening, but claustrophobia or panic or _something of that nature_ is all Adora's got to work with. Coming up with plans on the fly isn't something she likes to do often, but she's certainly getting in some practice now. 

"You’re alright," Adora squeezes Catra's shoulder. "Let's unpack later. You've had a rough morning. Besides, I want to show you something." 

-

The door to the outside opens with an annoying screech, but it's immediately drowned out by _...wow…_

"You showed me your favorite spots, well this is _my_ favorite one." Adora turns to see Catra's reaction. 

Skeptical at best. 

"The roof of your apartment building?"

"Yeah. What? You don't believe me? There's so much more space to move around-" Adora grabs Catra's hand to pull her further onto the roof. "-and _look."_

Catra looks. She can't seem to find anything wrong with it, because the view is fantastic. They can see everything from up here. The mountains around Etheria, the lake, and the thousands upon thousands of glistening rooftops. She grudgingly shuts her mouth. Whatever was wrong with her, at least she's not panting anymore.

Good job, Adora. Successful distraction. She’s first to press right up against the edge.

“If you're going to jump, give me some warning first."

"Ha ha. Come over here." 

Catra joins her, placing her hands flat on the protective ledge tha likely exists to discourage real jumpers. "This is… Higher than seven stories."

"Yeah, for sure." 

And a little quieter, "I think this might be the highest I've ever been."

Adora glances to the side. "You've never been in a building taller than this one?"

"I've never even been on a plane, Adora."

"Oh." Right...

A cool breeze. Adora looks back out at the skyline. Silence. 

It doesn't last long before Catra hesitantly breaks it. "What are they like…?"

"Huh?"

"Planes. Do they feel like this?" She's looking at Adora with timid wonder.

Catra's never...asked something like that. "Well, no." How is Adora supposed to explain planes? Bluntly, she supposes. "They're worse. Your ears pop, it's too cramped, and the food sucks." 

And the wonder is dead. 

"Well that fucking sucks." Catra sighs in disappointment. "I guess when I move to California, I'll drive. Road trips seem like more fun."

 _California._ Where in the world did that come from?

"California?" Adora can't help but to laugh. That's the least unique wish she's ever heard Catra utter - and Catra is _very_ unique. "Why California?"

"Tech jobs, Silicon Valley, you know." Catra explains matter of factly. "That or Washington. Somewhere on the coast. I want to explore.”

She probably hasn't ever been outside the Midwest, then. Yeah, the West coast is nice. The weather is better, and even Washington has less snow than here. But...

"Well, I think here's pretty great." 

Catra raises a disbelieving eyebrow. "You've been to a bunch of places. I don't get what makes this dumb place so special to you."

Isn't it obvious? 

"...It's just a feeling I get." 

"You're stupid." Catra punches Adora's arm, _ow, really?_ "Etheria is a really fucking boring city and you know it." 

"Hey! So you're saying you want me to talk about Spain and Italy and-"

Then, playfully slaps a hand over Adora's mouth. Less ow, more fluttering. "Oh _shuuut up_ already. I get it. I get it and I take it back. Etheria is _special.”_

Very.

Adora pires Catra's fingers away, unable to contain her grin. "So... Do you feel any better?"

"Yeah. A little." Then, more of a mumble. "Thanks for this. It's… Nice up here." 

"Thanks for trusting me." With so many things.

"Don't get too happy about that." Catra smiles, then leans against the ledge to look down to the ground. "Fuck," She chuckles. " _That_ really is a drop."

Adora has a tiny confession.

_This really was on the fly._

She's never...uh...she’s never actually been up here before. Don't laugh, she did what she could. Catra feels sad? Give her a hug. Catra feels claustrophobic? Give her fresh air. What's a girl to do? 

Besides, it worked. 

And… Not just on Catra.

The fact Adora hasn't been to the roof before doesn't make it any less her favorite spot. It's unquestionably the best place in the whole of Etheria - because let’s face it, it is a pretty boring city. But what’s more, and what’s a pang to Adora’s heart is that at least for right now? For this moment? Right here is the best place in the world. 

Why wouldn’t it be? It’s all so...beautiful. 

Adora's not staring at the skyline, though. She's staring at Catra. Watching how the breeze softly tosses strands of hair back and forth. How her shoulders rise and fall with each breath. Every freckle. Every eyelash… There’s that sensation. Butterflies. The one she's pushed away all morning. The memory of their kiss. Now she’s got a swollen throat, and legs made of jelly. Adora suddenly becomes acutely aware where her hands are, how awkward she's holding them. Not open, not closed. They're so sweaty. It's like she's gone back in time, but with ten times less suaveness - which of course, she didn't have much to begin with.

If Catra was still attractive as an angry jerk…

"Hey, idiot." Catra turns her head just enough to side eye Adora, smirking, and with the smallest tinge of redness forming on her face. "If you keep looking at me like that, I'm going to throw you over the edge." 

_... Then what’s Adora supposed to do now she’s just a regular one?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow Adora you gay fuck  
> I wonder if Catra is gay too  
> Hmmmm
> 
> I've got a question.
> 
> How do you feel about the inclusion of sexual content? I'm asking because I started this fic without even tagging kissing - so I don't want to spring it on you if the majority of you do not want to read a story with sexual content. I know it's my call in the end, but I wanted to ask. 
> 
> If the general consensus is yes, I'll likely be bumping this up to E when the time comes. 
> 
> I would love to hear some feedback on this before I decide! Thanks all


	9. Restraint

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Busy week, a little later than I wanted. Here we go though.

On Mondays, Adora wakes up at six forty five a.m. 

Catra knows, because she has the pleasure of being a light sleeper. She figured she'd have to get up earlier than usual today, but her first class is at nine thirty. Nine. Thirty. Yes, Catra is trying to be a better person. She's even been nice to Adora since the rooftop. So far, things are going okay - some might say it's going well. 

But now it's Monday?

At six forty five in the morning?

On the dot? 

_Who wouldn’t be grumpy?_ Catra is sorely tempted to use this opportunity to dive into her first regression. It’s bound to happen. Why not take a break from being a better person? Yeah… Tempting. Because here she is, unable to get back to bed and listening to Adora get ready through thin as paper walls. 

Shouldn’t luxury apartments have better sound insulation? This place seemed nice before. 

The moment Adora comes out of the bedroom, she lights up like the sun. "Good morning!” Talk about obvious. “I didn't know you wake up so early." 

But Catra is not at all in the mood for cuteness. She rolls over so her back is facing Adora, then shoves her face into the nearest pillow. _"Yeahmeneither."_

"When’s your first class?"

_"Ninethirty."_

"Really? Mine is at ten.” Catra can hear Adora move into the kitchen. “Since you’re up, do you mind if I use the blender? I’ll make you a smoothie, um, if you want.” 

Catra turns back over just to shoot Adora a _what the fuck look._ "Was your last roommate in the dorms?"

"Yeah… Why?" 

Makes sense. 

“Did you have a blender there?”

“... No?”

They stare at each other for a few seconds before Catra feels herself soften. Damn it. That keeps happening, and it’s got to stop. Jesus...

"Use the blender,” She grumbles. “Then I'm going back to bed."

Ding ding, lightbulb moment.

"Ohhh… You want to sleep…?" Good job cottoning on, even if it's late. "Never mind, uh, I’ll go take my shower then. It’ll be quieter than making breakfast."

Adora’s thoughtfulness is appreciated - at first. Showering is certainly quieter. To most people, it’d just be white noise. But soon enough, Catra thinks she would’ve rather endured the vrrr of the blender, because the sound of Adora showering is grating. For so...so many reasons.

Catra tries to cover her ears.

Fuck showers. 

She curls up into a ball.

Fuck mornings. 

She didn't get good sleep last night at all. Nope. Even now, she tosses and turns, _trying_ to relax. Of course, just when it feels like she might be able to tolerate the situation, there comes the most horrible banging on the front door. Catra reflexively springs into a sitting position. “Shit.” Heart pounding. 

If this had happened at her former apartment, she would’ve thought someone was trying to break in. But this isn’t there. So, who the fuck is knocking at this hour? They scared the shit out of her. A moment of paranoia.

No, calm down, Catra. There are plenty of reasons for this.

It's probably a package that got sent to the wrong apartment, maybe someone dropped it off. 

Or maybe it’s something with maintenance. 

Either way, it’s something she can handle.

Another stupidly loud knock, another slight jump. Catra steels herself after two or three breaths. 

“What do you want!?” Ugh, it rings louder than she means it to be. Stupid... She’s still on edge.

Apparently, it sounds distressing enough to Adora - because the shower suddenly shuts off. Maybe Catra should’ve started by asking who, not what. Whatever. Her nerves are just starting to settle when the reply comes through.

“Wow- oh gosh! Catra? Is that _you?!?”_

Oh fuck. 

That is not maintenance. Or a neighbor. Or anyone like that.

What has Catra done. 

How long did this last? Less than seventy two hours, fuck. On her feet. To the bathroom. Catra presses as close to the door as she can without hugging the damn thing. “Adora? Adora, we’ve got a problem.”

“Coming…!” That familiar _plod plod,_ feet on tile. Just as frantic as that day at the gym. Then, something else. Catra is about to hiss again, but before she can, the bathroom door bursts open. Adora is an absolute disaster. Disheveled, conditioner in her hair and soaking wet. Still adjusting a towel around herself. “What’s going on!? Why’d you shout???””

"It’s- fuuuck..." Catra immediately backs up, pausing to make sure she doesn’t stutter and instinctively averting her eyes. “It’s Scorpia. She’s here.”

_Again, in that oh so cheerful tone, “Catra! Can you get Adora!? Man, I have got to see this!”_

“What?" Adora’s own panic goes from about seventy to two hundred in about five milliseconds. "That’s who you were talking to? I thought you didn’t want-”

“I don’t! Christ, Adora. I thought she was someone else!” 

“Okay,” Adora briefly takes hold of Catra’s hands to squeeze them. It’s not clear who she’s trying to comfort. Either way, it is comforting. How she’s starting to focus, breathing through her anxiety...letting everything not helpful to the situation drop away. “It’s going to be okay. I’ll… Let me think.”

Breathe, Catra. 

"I'm going to ask her to leave. If she doesn’t?” A reassuring smile. “We’ll come up with some excuse. We're going to get through this." 

It’s hard to trust, but they both know that now Scorpia knows something is up, she'll stand out there until the door rots. And it’s not like Catra is going to be able to convince Adora to ignore her, she’s too good of a person for that.

Fuck, okay. Okay.

Catra clenches shaking hands until they're steady. "Let me hide my shit first. If she sees..."

She doesn’t want to consider what’ll happen if she sees. It can’t happen. It just can’t.

Time to move. 

Adora yells for Scorpia to give her a minute, but positions herself by the door. Catra hurries back to the living room, quickly rolling the blankets and stuffing them under the couch. Just in case.

… Hiding all this? 

It's a cruel reminder that _this place_ is not home, no matter what Adora says. This place feels like _Adora,_ which makes Catra feel like some form of leech. What a disgusting thought. She tells herself it's from the panic, and pushes it nauseatingly deep into her stomach, somewhere she hopes it will never resurface. She just… She just needs to get through this, maybe she'll settle in. That's what she's telling herself - desperate times, desperate measures - because what else can she do? It's panic or don't panic. Try or don't try. Catra is going for don't panic and try - all because she said she'd try. _All because Adora is trying too._

Adora is on her side, literally - holding the front door's handle until Catra is finished preparing. 

Once there's nothing left to do, she braces herself. 

Queasy.

Two short nods, and Adora opens the door just a crack. “Hey, Scorpia. It’s not really a good time right n-”

“Are you two really talking again!?” Immediate. Excited. Whatever reason Scorpia had for being here seems to be forgotten, even to Scorpia herself.

“Yes,” At least Adora is trying. “Which is why-”

“No no! I get it! I’m just going to say hi real quick!" It's like she doesn't remember the gym. Or Catra being pissy. If Adora is too forgiving, Scorpia doesn't even remember being wronged.

She’s always been like this. It's made her an easy friend to keep.

“Wait, Scorpia-”

But an impossible one to get rid of. 

As strong as Adora is, Scorpia is a thousand times stronger. She pushes the door open without realizing that maybe her friends liked it better closed. So, here they all are. Catra standing in the living room, Scorpia joyously waving from the doorway and Adora holding so tightly to the door that it might just double as a life preserver.

“Hi. Scorpia.” Catra growls.

“Hey! _Heeey….”_ As quickly as she starts, Scorpia stops waving. Now she’s inside? She sees. Scorpia looks at Catra, then at Adora, then back at Catra again. Mental math. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. “Ohhh… You two…”

She isn’t supposed to be this smart. She knows now, doesn’t she? She fucking knows. Catra balls her fists, and the pit in her stomach starts to spark into flame. She’s shaking.

Adora stares from across the room, _oh shit_ written all over her face.

It didn’t even last three days. 

Scorpia knows now.

She probably thinks Catra is fucking pathetic.

But no, that doesn't make sense. Scorpia is smiling, not looking at Catra with distaste. Actually, she’s not even looking at her at all! She’s looking at Adora - in her bathrobe. “Wow, _wheeew…Guys,_ I gotta tell ya. I did not see this coming. I mean! I guess I should have, it’s so early! and-” Scorpia air quotes. “-’talking?”

Oh. 

Oh shit. 

_Scorpia thinks they fucked._

The pit in Catra’s stomach doesn't seem to know where to go. It contorts. Up, down. Stronger and then weaker. Flipping all over. How was Catra supposed to predict this? No, wait, maybe she should have guessed this would happen. 

Sure, Scorpia is not usually too bright about these sorts of topics, and if it were anyone else, she surely wouldn't have come to this conclusion. But when it’s Catra and Adora? Well, Scorpia has had the privilege of knowing both sides for the past four years. She knows the whole fucking thing. Four years of gossip lurk behind that cheery, ridiculous smile. 

Of course she thinks they had sex. 

Then comes a deadly serious realization - the fact that Catra can’t even correct her. She can't, because if she does, she'll probably figure out what's actually going on. 

_And that would be unacceptable. Intolerable._

New mission. She has to keep this situation from falling apart. She may not have personally chosen this as her ideal excuse, but she needs it to stick.

If only idiot made it easy...

Adora looks just as shocked as Catra feels, mouth hanging open and staring at Scorpia.

“I always knew you guys had to work things out.” Scorpia laughs. “But wooow.”

Because most alarmingly, Adora is starting to shake her head. "Um, Scorpia. I think you’ve got this wro-” No, fuck no. What is she doing?

What is this? Dumb and dumber!? 

“Adora!” Catra’s urgency causes the blonde's neck to audibly snap into attention - ouch for her, she winces. “Don’t!!!”

Frozen. Adora is frozen, total confusion in her eyes. “But we didn’t-”

Catra summons the firmest, non-panicked tone she can possibly muster. _"Don't."_

“Aww, come on, Catra!” Ignoring all social etiquette, Scorpia enters the apartment with a bounce in her step. “Why are you trying to hide? I already know.”

Play into it. Fuck, how embarrassing. Just play into it. Don’t look too hard, please. Not for the blankets. Certainly not for any evidence contrary to the lie.

“Yeah,” Catra is trying not to hyperventilate. “Yeah, right.” 

A story… Something vague… Think.

"Wait," Adora has successfully shaken off her confusion - at least for the moment, and trails behind Scorpia. "Why are you here? We didn’t plan for today."

Plan for today? 

What? 

"Oh! Oh, right!" Scorpia digs into her pockets and takes out- "Your resistance bands! You gave them to me, like what, two months ago? Hah! I saw them when I was leaving to run and I thought I'd stop by." Then, she walks towards Catra with a soul crushing smile. "I'm so happy I did. Come ‘ere you!” _Oh fuck, another hug,_ then Scorpia's version of a whisper - so, not a whisper at all. "I’m impressed, Wildcat." 

Catra’s least favorite title. Yeah, sure. It was funny, once - the first time Catra made a drunk mistake and Scorpia found out. It was probably Scorpia’s first ever dirty joke, and it struck them both as just _hi-l-ar-ious._ Yeah... It isn’t funny anymore. Not even a little.

Annnnd Adora is lost again. It's a wonder she held on at all. "Wildcat? Is that like a nickname? Why…?" 

Especially not now.

"Don’t-" Fuck, it’s hard to breathe. Catra begins her ritualistic struggle against Scorpia’s affection. "Could you not call me that..!?."

"But that's what you are, Wildcat!"

Neither care to explain the context to Adora, Serves her right, not fucking helping Catra out of this stupid shit.

A huff. "S-Scorpia-"

"Okay, okay! I know.” A little disappointed. But praise be, the hug ends. Short for once. 

Catra feels her feet hit the ground and starts panting. Soon, she realizes that they’re both looking at her with varying degrees of stupidity showing on their faces.

For all the chaos that’s happening, for Adora’s obliviousness, and for Scorpia’s gullibility - one thing is clear, Scorpia doesn’t yet know the truth. Better yet, she doesn't want to. This reality is just fine for her. 

Perhaps it’s time for Catra to get some truth in return.

"Let me get this straight." Catra narrows her eyes, doing her best to synthesize the mess before her. "You decided to come over and drop off exercise bands at seven a.m.?"

"Well, yeah. It's not weird or anything," Sure, go on and believe that. "I come over all the time!" 

Catra looks to Adora, who confirms the claim with a painfully slow nod. "We go on morning runs… A lot…" 

“But you didn’t know Scorpia was coming over? Today, I mean." 

“No…” Stop looking so guilty, Adora. It’s making Catra feel bad.

_So, that's what Adora meant by having no plan for today._ Okay, alright… Catra thinks she understands how this happened now, even if she’s surrounded by psychopaths who exercise before the rest of the world wakes up. 

Scorpia is still standing between them, the stupidest smile on her face. Catra glares - and finally, she gets the message. “Well, I don't want to get in the way of _anything,_ so I’ll drop these off and go." 

“Great idea.” Catra grinds her molars. Bad habit. 

Their guest is about to exit, until, “Oh, Catra? Were you okay the other day?”

Oh, now she asks? “Yeah, fine.”

“I forgot to text back, oops.” At least she takes it at face value. “We’ll hang out soon?" 

"... Yeah, soon.”

Scorpia places the athletic bands on the coffee table, gives Catra a knowing smile, then makes to leave. 

Almost… 

Of course, Adora stops her at the door. "Hey, uh. Could you do us a favor and not tell everyone about...this?"

Us? This? That’s so cringe. But it works, and that’s what counts. As long as Scorpia doesn't know, it doesn’t matter. Besides, it’s almost sweet that Adora is trying to contain this. Almost. It's not going to work, and that sucks - especially for Adora. But hey, it's the thought that counts. 

"Don’t worry, I’m great with secrets! Not a word.” A faux salute. “Have fun!”

The door clicks shut. 

Silence.

Catra didn't realize she was this tense through the whole ordeal. 

The let down? 

A heart attack in slow motion.

Fuck, she's okay. 

She feels like she’s going to fall over, she holds a hand to her chest. Holy shit. She got through it. Holy shit… There's a dull pulse of relief beneath her ribs. No, more. Something sharp. It’s almost like she has a feeling of...pride. 

The good kind, not the bad kind. This particular one is exhausted pride, but it’s definitely there.

She did it. She kept control of both of herself and the situation. 

Speaking of which, she’s already by Catra's side. "Are you alright?"

Touchy. So touchy. It tingles. 

"I'm… I'm fine." Deep, relieved breaths. 

It might not be a lie, but it's weak sounding. Adora clearly doesn't trust it. 

"I had no idea she would come over, I swear." She holds one of Catra's hands. 

She keeps doing that. At this point, Catra isn't sure whether it's from Adora's constant need to comfort, or her crush doing it. Of course… Catra isn’t rejecting it...

"I know, I know. What matters is that she doesn’t know.” 

"Okay, well… Thanks for not blowing up at her." Adora is still searching for something, anything wrong. "For a minute there… I thought...”

"Yeah." Short. To the point. Catra thought so too, but struggles to find more words to express that she really is fine - in a polite way. 

"Hey, Catra. Look at me?" 

Never mind, Catra’s not fine. Because she does, and what a mistake that is. Now she can't look away. Fuck, it's the closeness. she's so close, she can see those last droplets of water on her neck. Her bare shoulders are so fucking toned. This is why she averted her eyes when Adora came out of the bathroom. 

She doesn't have any air in her lungs. How is she letting this woman touch her? 

"Are you sure you're okay?”

"Yes. Just," Catra closes her eyes for a few seconds. Not looking helps. _Breathe._ "Let it go, okay? Honestly, I’d be more worried about you, if you were you. I don’t care if people hear a fake sex story,” That’s not entirely true. It’s just true right now, when the alternative is a billion times worse. “But she's going to tell everyone."

"She will?" Adora’s expression morphs into renewed panic. "No, she wouldn’t. Would she? I told her not to!" 

So naive. 

"Come on, don’t be stupid.”

Then, she bites her lip. Light pink. Thinking, hard. Harder than when she was trying to convince Catra that everything would be okay - fair, now she has to convince herself the same thing. 

"If she does… Do I really have to pretend that we did?" It must not have worked.

A twinge of annoyance. No, more than a twinge. Blah blah, does she _really have to?_ Idiot should be happy, this should be a dream for her, considering her crush... Unless she doesn't have one, and Catra misread the signs. 

… Also an annoying thought. No, that doesn't make sense. Catra never misreads the signs. Still...

"Well don't say it like _that."_ She firmly positions Adora’s hands away from her own. Instinct, a retaliation of sorts. 

Adora looks down at her now empty hands, then back up in confusion. "Like what? I don’t understand...?"

Like what!? How can she possibly be this dense? 

"Like that!” Catra growls. “What, is the idea us fucking that bad? It's not a big deal." 

Adora flushes a much deeper red. "I didn't say that it was a bad thought!”

"Yeah, sure."

"Wha-..." Idiot is not computing. She stands, completely lost. "Why is this what you're stuck on?"

Good fucking question. It just pisses Catra off more, though. So. 

"I'm not stuck on anything." She crosses her arms. “I just want to know your deal is." 

“Catra," So exasperated. "Come on. Do you have to find something wrong with everything? You know I don't like to lie." 

Bullshit. She’ll lie plenty if it benefits her. The only difference is that she’d call it bending the truth or some weird white girl shit like that.

"You didn't care before. What was all that about making up an excuse?" Catra rolls her eyes.

"I didn't think that _that_ would be the lie!”

Jesus, are they actually fighting? If Catra can’t tell, then Adora definitely can’t. It’s not exactly screaming and it’s not exactly anger, so it’s not exactly clear what the fuck is going on. It’s just happening, alright?

"What was Scorpia supposed to think?” Catra retorts, starting to raise her voice now. “It's hardly even light outside, we were awkward as fuck, and you,” She motions up and down Adora’s body. “You're practically naked!"

That one did it. Idiot looks like she’s about to explode from- from something. It’s not anger, per se. It’s more...

"I am NOT naked!" The look on idiot's face is simply infuriating. 

"Yeah!?" 

"Yeah!" 

"Well," This fucking bitch. This stupid bitch. This ridiculous, dumb, high and mighty idiot. "You might as well be!!!"

Crickets.

_Because that… That has two different meanings…_

Adora blinks.

_... It doesn't matter what Catra meant to say - it matters what idiot hears…_

Catra freezes. She freezes because that is the single worst, single stupidest, single bit of groan inducing cringe she has ever uttered. 

And if there's something Adora speaks, _it's cringe._

"Oh my God, you..." Adora's whatever, anger? Embarrassment? It’s vanished into thin air. She's got this weird look in her eyes. It seems like she's dumbstruck. Then, her expression slowly turns _into the life cycle of an idiot's brain._ From stunned to disbelieving, a dazed kind of joy, dizzy elation, and then…

Full on realization.

"Oh, Catra." Adora stifles a giggle. Badly. A happy sigh. 

Adora is such an awkward person.

Until…

Until she's not. 

It's been so long. There's been so much anger. So much anxiety from both sides, that Catra almost forgot that Adora isn't always awkward. Sometimes, she’s like this. Shit, _she looks gorgeous when she relaxes…_ And it's always that laugh that does it. 

Always that laugh that spurs action.

"That,” Catra hastily tries to correct herself. Far, far too late. “Was not because I like you. It was a slip up."

"A slip up, huh? Adora's voice dips into a low whisper. "But you’re admitting you do like me, then? Is that why you got offended?"

_Catra also forgot Adora could be flirty. Forward._

_Once upon a time…_

_Many years ago…_

_She knew._

"No, no! I'm saying I don't, so shut up! Why are you so stupid?" 

Especially since it's such a rare thing these days, with Catra acting like a bomb ready to explode and all. She hasn't given much opportunity for Adora to feel safe. But now Catra messed up, Adora has the biggest shit eating grin on her face. "I don’t think you said what you think you said."

That is more than enough abuse.

"Fucking wash that shit out of your hair, do it into your dumb little poof," Catra grits her teeth. "And don't talk to me until you're dressed."

The shit she’s feeling in her chest has to be some sick consequence of sleep deprivation. It has to be. It's early, that's why it's so nice that Adora is caring for her. It's so fucking early, that's why Adora teasing her is so flustering. Wearing a bathrobe would make anyone attractive this early in the morning. And Catra was drunk! The kiss was a lapse in judgement. It- It-...

Fuck.

She checks the time. Seven thirteen a.m., Monday morning. 

"Hey!" Adora's flirtiness temporarily gives way to indignation. "What is it with people and my hair?"

Her hair. Cascading down her shoulders.

Her eyes. Fucking addictive.

Her lips. Catra is staring.

Shit, something else. Her hands... 

_Everything about this dumbass makes Catra feel like a dumbass too. Like she's getting stupider the longer she's here._

Yeah. Seven thirteen, the time it all crumbles. So much for mocking Adora for not making it twenty four hours. This isn't any better. 

But the mask of anger really seems gone, and since it is? Not even Catra can shove her head up the ass of denial any longer. Not after four years.

It’s a different sort of relief than before. Another swell, It's like the numb balloon she felt a few days ago, the one filled with anger and pain - but now, it’s far different. A whole new balloon, a scary one filled with warmth. 

Warmth she hasn't felt since she first met Adora. 

Since they first spoke. 

Since...

"That poof shit makes you look like an idiot, Adora."

"Well," The cocky smile returns. "If that's what you like." 

And… _Pop._

“Go, asshole.” 

The heat spreads.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My 1st brain cell: do a little disaster   
> My 2nd brain cell: don't forget the sexual tension  
> My 3rd brain cell: build plot   
> My final brain cell: please sleep


	10. Rapids

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried something a little diff here, but I am sooo r e a d y  
> I don't usually post this late but I couldn't resist

**Tuesday!**

Elated. Overjoyed. 

_Catra likes her._

She’s sure of it, and it feels like some teenage crush. Probably because that’s what it was when it started. 

_Really though, Catra likes her._

It’s for this reason that Adora decides to stop by the apartment in between classes. She might tell herself it’s because it’s lunch time, but it really is mostly because of Catra - which is unfortunate, because Catra is on her way out. 

Packing up her book bag by the door.

“Oh? Where are you going?” Yeah, someone’s disappointed.

“Lecture, dummy.”

Right, right… They’re in college. They have to… Do stuff. It’s starting to get to that part of the semester where everything ramps up. 

… Darn, well... If they aren’t sharing lunch, then maybe Adora should see if anyone else is willing to get food. She takes out her phone, which has been on silent since her last class, and finally discovers exactly how long Scorpia lasted.

A little more than twenty four hours. 

_78 new messages._

Catra slips on her sneakers, then comes close, taking the time to glance down at Adora's phone. "Wow.” A snicker. “Good luck with that. I wouldn’t want to be that popular." 

"What do I say?"

"Say it was good."

So helpful, thanks Catra. 

Adora sighs, reading the barrage of questions aimed at her in the group chat. She’s going to have to tell everyone they can’t just show up anymore, which is only going to make this more embarrassing. "You know, I thought I wasn't supposed to talk about you to them." 

"I'll make an exception.” Catra slings her bag over one shoulder. “Besides, that's what I told Scorpia."

She _what?_

"You told her that it was good?” Adora’s attention is immediately drawn away from her phone. “Why!?"

"She asked, and I'm not giving her any reason to think otherwise. Neither should you. I mean, you could say that it was bad. But I said it was good, so that's going to reflect poorly on me." Catra teasingly pats Adora’s poof as she moves to the door. It’s the first time she’s touched her affectionately in a very long time. She still won’t admit her crush, but knowing, feeling her act on it is breathtaking. “I know you’re not that mean, though. I’ll see you later.”

And gone.

Before Adora can reply. Before she can warn. 

… She's got a meeting with some group project members until at least eleven - the only time they all could agree on. That means later is… Later.

Alright, that’s fine. That's fine! They can see each other then. It’s no biggie. It’s only one day, they’ll have time together soon.

**Wednesday.**

Apparently not. This is literally the only interaction they’ve had all day. It’s agonizing because Catra is here, but Adora needs to get to practice. 

"Catra? Melog still won't leave." 

Why is this all she has time for? 

She’s rapidly lost control of her personal space - not to Catra, but to _that evil cat._ Adora doesn’t use that word lightly, but if something is evil, it’s evil. Since the very first day, that antisocial terror has latched onto Adora's room. Not in a sweet way, more in a _hiss hiss scratch_ any time she tries to sit at her desk kind of way. It’s worse than that, though. Melog sleeps on Adora’s pillows, pushes things off her bureau, and hides places in order to scare her. The current issue is that she can’t reach her athletic bag.

"I don't see how it's my job to fix your relationship with a cat." 

"Your cat, Catra. Your cat that hates me." Adora holds up her arm, fresh claw marks all over.

"I'm sure you guys can work it out.” Catra is smirking. Does she seriously find this funny? “Honestly, I don’t think we can have sex again until you do. Cats know things, you know? Maybe it’s a sign."

The blonde goes scarlet. Well, that’s it. She ends up leaving with a few more scratches to add to her collection. 

Embarrassed as she is, it doesn’t matter. Adora spends the whole evening yearning to go back to the apartment - but when she arrives home, she finds Catra fast asleep. Curled up. 

_Mm…_

Alright, Adora isn’t going to wake her. Instead, she walks into her room and sits on the edge of her bed. Melog glares from under the desk.

"You know, I don't know why you keep spending time with me if you hate me."

_Hiss._

Ugh.

**...Thursday.**

It’s uncomfortable. This week is going by too fast, and there’s hardly anything so far. Catra is dead asleep when Adora gets up - apparently she finally gave in and bought earplugs. Well, when she eventually rises, there’ll be some pancakes waiting for her.

If Adora can’t reach her right now, maybe those will.

Speaking of reaches, it’s a reach to get through the day. The week might be disappearing, but the day is taking forever. Class is long. Practice is longer, it goes late again, all in preparation for an upcoming game. Another late night. But this time? This time, Catra is very much so awake when Adora returns - on the couch and hunched over her laptop. 

_Finally._

Monday feels so far away.

But that’s okay.

Adora sits on the armrest, leaning over to look at the screen. She can't even begin to understand whatever that is, none of it makes a lick of sense. 

"Homework?"

Just… Wow. Catra is so smart.

"Project. Due at midnight." A brief smile. Catra reaches up to brush her fingers over Adora's cheek, ah, then she’s back to work. 

"Do you want me to wait for you to be done?" 

"You don't have to." 

Adora edges a little closer. "I can." 

Honestly? She doesn’t know if she's any good at this stuff. All she knows is that it seems to work. It sure did on Monday, and it's thrilling. Catra considers the blonde, genuinely contemplating the offer of company. 

"No, you're a distraction." Okay. Oof, never mind. She says it like she's teasing, but Adora knows she's not. "I have to finish this on time."

Responsible. Good… 

_That doesn't make it any less disappointing._

Sigh.

"Don't pout.” Oh, did Adora actually sigh? Oops… “As much as I'd like to be done with this, if I fail this, I'll probably fail the class. I need it to graduate, so this comes first."

**...Friday...**

Don’t pout. The whole day is just pouting, because it’s the worst yet. Yeah, Adora had left early, but she’d made it a priority to come home as quickly as possible. Now she’s here? Catra isn’t. It’s worrying, and genuinely dipping into scary by the time the door opens.

“Where’ve you been? It’s past midnight!” 

Catra collapses onto the couch. “Picked up an extra shift, mom.”

Tension. That's one of the few things they haven't discussed. No, it doesn't matter. 

“I mean it. Can you tell me next time you do that?” Adora exhales, letting the subject go and pulling a blanket over the exhausted woman. “I was… I was worried about you.”

“Yeah... Okay.” No fight. Maybe Catra is a little guilty. 

A few seconds of silence. 

"Catra…?”

“Hm?” 

"Are you going to be around tomorrow?” Adora wants to be closer...again. “I want to see you..."

Tired eyes sharpen, if only for a moment. Then, a smile. "I have a few things, but you’ll see me."

**Saturday!!!**

All that? That's it, that's all they've had since Monday. Notice that a rhythm is forming, a type of normal - but that normal includes missing each other. Not just emotionally, literally too. It's not the kind of rhythm Adora wants at all. 

Everything is going too fast. Rushing by. 

It's not right for everything just to slip past.

Slip away.

So that's going to change, got it? It’s Saturday. Adora had one big errand to run, but she's free now. She bounces on the balls of her feet, waiting to exit the elevator.

_Catra is home too._

She jogs to the apartment, entering with an impressive level of excitement. "Hey!"

_They're both here today._

"Hey, Adora."

_Adora is going to make something of it, even if it's the last thing she does._

Time to put the plan in motion.

"I think we should watch a movie."

Catra looks up from her laptop. She's in her standard spot, sitting on the couch. Working. What’s that about, anyways? It’s like she’s distracting herself. "... We should what now?"

Adora can distract her too. It’s a fluttering thought. The kind the blonde doesn’t have with anyone else. 

"I know you already finished your big project, so that's regular homework, right?” Adora trots over. “Is it due today?" 

"Yeah, and no."

"Then you deserve a break. I think it'd be fun to watch something." She beams, giving her all towards coaxing Catra from her assignment. "You said you’d be here, so why not take the evening off?"

Yes, yes. Whatever it is that Adora does to Catra? It’s back to normal, maybe because now there’s no threat of failing a class. She looks completely caught off guard. “Uh… With you?”

“Yeah, with me. Who else?”

“Sure… Yeah, okay.” Catra awkwardly closes her laptop. “But not at a theater, right…?”

“Nope,” Adora grins. She thought this through. Started planning Wednesday, in fact. “Just here. I’m even getting popcorn!”

Catra smiles back, and even though the blonde knows it’s because she’s acting dumb, it’s welcome. “Wait,” But then the smile vanishes. “Getting? Weren’t you just out?”

Oh right, Catra hasn’t been here when Kyle delivers.

“Kyle- my food guy, he should be here...any minute.” He’s late, actually.

Oh man, what’s that. Why is Catra staring at her like that? What’s Adora missing this time? 

“Kyle?” Her voice is practically pained. _“Kyle_ buys your groceries?”

“Well, uh, actually I pay for them. But yes?” _What is that look?!?_ “Do you… Know… Him?”

Catra doesn't get a chance to reply before there's a weak knock. 

That'll be him. 

Adora goes to open the door. 

Kyle stumbles inside, but at least he succeeds in not dropping absolutely everything on the floor. “They keep harassing me at the front desk, and I don’t know why! They don’t ever want to let me in!”

She honestly finds him kind of endearing. Well...

"I'll talk to them." It’s only after she carries everything to the kitchen that she realizes the answer to her previous question a resounding yes.

He's not endearing right now, not now she's worried. Catra's face is blank. Oh no nonono, is she about to panic? Don’t let this be like Monday. How was Adora supposed to know they knew each other? 

She hurries to de-escalate whatever is about to happen. “You know Catra? I’m, uh, her - _yup."_ That's not coming out. "That’s why she’s here, heh. Visiting. After, you know-”

“You’re fine, idiot.” Catra puts up a hand to stop her. “He’s new."

"Hey, Catra." Kyle seems unsure. Then again, that's the only way Adora has ever seen him. "Are… Are you doing okay?"

Oh. Adora isn’t part of this at all. She’s already become background noise to whatever’s going on here. She’s not used to being in the background, and it’s honestly a little distressing.

"People seem to be asking that a lot lately." Catra’s tone is flat. 

"Rogelio and I have been worried about you." Rogelio? That Rogelio? "He told me you got really upset about some girl, and we wanted to give you space. But we haven't heard from you…"

_Ohhhkay…_ Adora creeps back towards the groceries. She definitely can't help with this, so she might as well put stuff away... 

"Yeah, well." Sigh. "I'm fine." 

"I'm glad to hear that. Are you coming to Dunchfest today?"

_Today._

A glance over to Catra. Adora is surprised to see her whole demeanor shift within a matter of seconds. 

She looks just as surprised. No longer angry or annoyed. "You want me to come back?"

"I didn't think you left."

It's one of the few times Catra seems at a loss for words. She looks happy. Here she is, smiling at this scrawny, awkward man like he's the nicest thing in the world. It doesn't seem like it should work. 

Kyle is not the type of person Adora would’ve guessed that Catra would like. 

It's made ten times worse when Melog slinks out from Adora's room - only to affectionately rub up on Kyle's leg. "Oh, hi there!" He glances back at Adora. "I didn't know you had a cat?"

_What did he do to receive that kind of treatment?_

Melog never leaves the bedroom. 

_Is he that nice?_

Adora shakes her head, quickly looking down into the nearest bag. She pulls out the popcorn. "Yeeep…" 

Kyle turns back to Catra. "So, what are you thinking? It's in half an hour."

_Ah…_

_Ow…_

Adora can feel that one in her chest. A sharp pang that she is most definitely not used to. She's not used to being left out like this. Not at all. 

Is it that? Is it being left out? 

She gulps. It's good that Catra has friends. Yes, it's good, and Adora will never get in the way of that ever again. She would never mess up Catra's social circle on purpose - and that is fact. It's great that there's some sort of repair work happening here.

That's fantastic. 

Because Adora is not a jealous person. Understand? She's… She's not - so if she is, then she doesn't want to be. 

She's not going to act on whatever's going on inside her chest right now. No matter how much it stings. If Catra wants to go, Adora's not going to say anything about it. She's just going to keep her mouth shut and-

"Can't." _Whew._ Catra's response brings a wave of relief. "I've got something else today, but I'll come next week. I promise."

"Okay!" Kyle seems pleased enough at that. "I'll let everybody know." But then, he lowers his voice. "Maybe tell Rogelio you're sorry for blowing up, though? Anyways… I'll see you next week." 

Adora shoves a milk carton into the fridge before reaching back down to retrieve something else. 

"Yeah, alright Kyle. Bye." 

He leaves. He definitely leaves.

It's really great that Catra has new friends. That's not a lie at all. 

It's also reaaallllly great that this one is gone. Just for today. 

_All Adora wants is today._

Can she have that? 

When the blonde turns back around, today seems to have come to her. Catra is in the kitchen, arms crossed. Staring. She looks more amused than annoyed. "I still can't believe you don't just go to the store yourself."

"Yeah…" Adora's mojo is way off. "Well…" 

And then Catra's there, _close again._ So quickly. Is she going to tease? Scold? Or, "Well? Well, you still haven't said what we're watching." 

-

Happy. 

Sure, Catra seems to be enjoying the film much more than Adora - but Adora is happy. Because it's cute. Adorable, in fact, to find out that Catra is actually the artsier of the two. The movie doesn't really matter - it's some indie film - It's simply a joy watching her reactions. 

No, she's not the type to ramble on. There's been almost no commentary. Still, Adora can see it in her eyes, in the way they focus. She can see it in her posture, in how she leans in when things become tense.

Stuff like this must be how she relaxes.

_Maybe in another world, she could've been the humanities major._

Adora isn't going to push it by teasing.

No, she'll just take it in. 

She'll just… Hold Catra's hand. It's different than other times. Harder to do, even though Catra doesn't seem to mind. Adora had thought about trying to be more forward, but Kyle had thrown her off. Kyle. Still, this will do. During a slow point in the movie, Adora is proven right. This is how Catra relaxes. Indeed, she gravitates towards the blonde until she's fully leaning on her. 

_Catra actually likes physical contact…_

It's making Adora's heart race. She can't focus on the plot at all. She's staring at the television, but processing nothing. 

"So," A sudden whisper, accompanied by unexpected breath on her neck. "This was your plan?" 

_Heart._

"I-I…"

_Pounding._

"It's better than Costa Rica." Lips achingly tease against Adora's skin. It's familiar, but much, much different without the hangover. Much different knowing Catra didn't do it in her sleep. "But, you're still an idiot if you thought I'd choose Kyle over this." 

The blonde dares not breathe, and everything becomes muffled, until all she can hear is her own insane heartbeat.

Okay, if she doesn't breathe, she's going to pass out.

_Breathe._

"Hey, Adora?" Catra lifts her head up at the blonde's exhale. "You in there?"

They're close. _Again, so sudden._ Adora can feel that line, that unfortunate barrier that has lasted the week - finally begin to bend...bend… 

"I…" It's one thing to decide. It's another to do. It's a struggle to speak over the chaos in her chest. "Uh…"

Her eyes flicker to Catra's lips. 

… Then break.

For the briefest of moments, it's soft. An almost timid connection. Without any anger, and slow enough to give Adora time to appreciate how Catra tastes. A mild, familiar sweetness. The one hiding behind alcohol all those weeks ago. 

_So happy._

The sound of the movie disappears into the background as the excitement in Adora's body grows, sizzling, and…and... No… She doesn't know exactly what she's doing, _it's been a long time since she's done anything like this,_ but Catra certainly does.

Closer...

_More._

It took all week to get this close. Never has a week felt so impossible. How had they made it this far? 

"More." Catra says Adora's thought out loud, and it sends shivers down the blonde's spine. 

Her tongue slips just inside Adora's mouth, testing - with a small moan - before carefulness turns to recklessness. But when it does, it does. One kiss turns to an uncountable amount of frantic ones, gasping breaths between them. Each break shorter than the last. Before either of them know it, Catra is climbing onto Adora's lap.

_Adora hoped for many things to come out of this night, but this wasn’t even considered - a kiss was as far as she’d fantasized._

"O-Oh…!?" 

_More. More. More._

Catra grinds her hips down, but it’s not a good enough angle. Frustrated, Catra growls. Oh God… Heat, everywhere. Adora feels most of it pool between her thighs. She tries to push her hips up, but to no avail.

_She wants to give Catra everything…_

Adora holds onto the waist in front of her, but in all other ways, completely submits to whatever the woman on top her leads them to. They break from yet another kiss. 

_Panting._

A sharp tug on Adora's ponytail, pulling her head back with a gasp and opening up her neck. Catra is not soft anymore. Sucking, furiously dragging her teeth over every inch of skin she can find. _It hurts, but more._

_"Catraaahhnmm…!"_

More.

Take. 

Give.

Adora cannot do much except give, but that’s fine. Catra is taking all she can with increasingly deepening growls . Her hands move under Adora's shirt, fingers greedily spreading over muscle. 

Closer… Please...

Then there’s how she uses her nails. A groan. It doesn’t matter from who.

The shirt starts going _up, up…_

Adora accepts it. How could she not? This is more than she could’ve ever dreamed. Air rushes over her stomach and - but then, nothing.

A waver.

The fabric drops back down. 

Everything halts with a devastating creak. 

Catra is frozen. Her whole body tensed. She pulls away, quickly removing both lips and hands from Adora's body. She looks just as surprised and confused as Adora feels. 

"Catra…!?"

The moment is irrevocably ruined.

"What's happening?" Her eyes are already hyper focused. She takes her hands off Catra's hips. "Are you okay?" 

Nothing. Something like this hasn't happened before. Things were good. Now Catra is getting up, her hands clutching her stomach, and her face is a mosaic of different emotions. Not one of which easy to pick out. Adora doesn't know how to handle all of Catra's feelings. She just knows she wants to.

Adora stands up too, catching her wrist and pulling it from her middle. "Catra, please talk to me. We promised, remember? You talk, I listen." 

Fearful eyes stare into worried ones. There's one emotion, she looks like she's going to throw up. 

Just… Crumbling...and…

_Does Catra feel like she has to? Oh God, this shouldn't have happened._

Adora's arms surround Catra, whose body practically gives way. She buries her face into a comforting shoulder. 

Still nothing. 

A little more. Open up. "Please." 

"... Angry." One muffled word. Catra doesn't like to talk about this stuff, does she. But she has to.

Angry. What can Adora do with that? 

"... Angry at me?"

"Maybe." 

Maybe…? 

If not Adora, then, "Angry at you?"

At first, no reply to that one. She strokes Catra's hair. Waiting. 

"Adora…" Catra's voice is much weaker than anticipated. "I-... I thought I had it handled…"

"What do you mean?"

"On Monday… When Scorpia came over, I felt... I felt." She's trying. So hard. _"Bad."_

What? Why didn’t she say anything?

Adora struggles to understand. "I thought you said you were fine." Did Catra lie? 

"I was…!" Exasperated, but scared. "I felt… I felt fine because I pushed it away? I-I don't know."

"It?" It sounds worse than bad. The hand on Catra's hair freezes. "Help me understand."

Catra pauses. Perhaps reconsidering her decision to trust. It's not a long consideration. "I'm taking advantage of you." 

What? No!

"No. No." That is the single most awful thing Adora has ever heard. "You aren't taking advantage of me." 

_Why would she think that? This was Adora's idea, if anything-_

"How do you know…!?" Building. "I'm sleeping on your couch, I… I'm eating your food…" Now Adora can feel damp spots on her shoulder. Only a few, but it's clear. 

_Wait. This isn't all about sex._

It's probably the fastest Adora's ever tacked on. She's starting to get the hang of it. 

_It's not about sex at all._

She pulls Catra's face from her shoulder, supporting it and gazing into her eyes. "Because you're the least likely person to do that. You hardly let yourself have anything, so I know you wouldn't do that."

Catra isn't buying it.

"Listen to me. You're not a burden. I don't pity you."

"Adora," Her voice cracks a little. "I'm not even paying rent. How am I not-" 

"You're not! Okay?" Adora assures. "You're going to find your own place, and who knows, maybe I'll come over and crash on your couch someday."

"That wouldn't happen."

"It might happen. It could- _well,_ the point is that if it did? You'd be the first person I'd go to." Come on, don't lose steam. Find something concrete. Adora musters all the brainpower she can possibly find to come up with the next sentence: "Because… Because I know you'd never judge me if I needed help, and you wouldn't see me as worse than you." 

Catra stares. 

Okay?

Yes?

No…?

"Okay." It's vague. Not clear whether she really believes it. More of a resignation, and she lays her head back down onto Adora. "... I guess stuff like this doesn't go away that fast, huh."

"I guess not." 

"You said it'd take a while." Adora gets the sense Catra's eyes are wandering to the television. _This isn't like a movie, things don't just...stop._ "Maybe a week isn't enough time to have this shit figured out." 

Things don't just get better. There’s nothing for this but time, is there?

"Yeah… I'm sorry I went too fast…" She is. God is Adora sorry about that. "I got excited." 

"It's alright. I did too. That just means I’m an idiot too." 

Neither of them sound angry. No blaming.

Just… Tired.

Tired, so they're quiet. Quiet for a long time. Quiet after the movie ends. 

Until, "... I don't hate you, Adora…" A whisper. 

It sparks thought. An ache. 

_Adora never wants to only let go. She even wants to kiss her again._

But no. 

_Guilt._

No, because if one thing is certain?

It is that now is not the time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pfff I'm sorry guys! They just aren't ready yet! I can't make them ready (I mean I can, and I will lmao) until it makes sense. 
> 
> I hope I didn’t get you too excited, cause y'know I didn’t bump it up to E yet. :)


	11. Mirror

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're back. 
> 
> Look closely.

Okay, picture this. 

Catra likes to be independent - and she definitely does not want to rely on Adora to feed her. She's also not paying the twenty percent surcharge for some delivery service. 

Make sense? 

Adora doesn't like shopping for food - and so logically, she definitely should not want to cancel her personal slave service that buys everything and delivers to her. 

Got that? 

Knowing all that, there should be a pretty simple solution to that. Catra goes out to buy her personal groceries, and Adora has hers delivered. 

Easy. Magnificent. No issues. 

_Except that's not what's happening._

Yes, Catra goes out shopping every Saturday after Dunchfest. It's a good enough reason for her not to get drunk, and it's nice she's not putting all her spare cash into building a severe alcohol dependency. But Catra's not alone here. 

Because Adora totally dropped Kyle. 

At first, it seemed innocent. Probably about her crush on Catra. A little bit about spending extra time together. Maybe about bettering herself. Adora even spewed some lines about _learning how it works._

Shopping, seriously. Learning about shopping for groceries. 

It took about fifteen minutes into their first trip for Catra to realize that this? This is actually a mission. 

"Wrong type, idiot."

Oh Adora, and her sweet little missions. 

"What! It is?" 

"I don't like two percent." Maybe Catra shouldn't be sending this uncultured rockbrain to different parts of the store to obtain things. It's supposed to make this painful process faster, but so far, it's not. God, it's so slow. Life is slower now. Leisurely. Maybe a little too slow…? Maybe not.

"I get whole milk too, can't we at least share that?" Adora frowns. 

_That._ Catch that? The S word. That's why Adora's here.

It's more than just her crush. 

It's also about the S word. Sharing. Support, even. Maybe savings? Choose whichever, that's what it's about. Adora keeps chipping away. Taking little loads off Catra, whatever she'll accept. Idiot keeps helping, damn her soul. 

Three Saturdays. Three kinds of food. 

First it was pasta, because Catra buys a lot of pasta. A waste of money, apparently. Adora had waved away the idea. _'There's plenty of pasta at home!'_ That was on the first Saturday they did this. 

The second Saturday, it was bananas. That one went over a little easier because Adora seriously _does_ buy too many bananas. They go bad before she can eat them. Fine, she can pay for that too. 

Now it's their third Saturday slogging through shopping, and against all better judgement, Catra gives that same dumb reply, "Fine. We can share milk." 

Pasta.

Bananas.

Now, milk. 

Speaking of which, idiot has to go back and put the stupid two percent carton away. Which makes shopping even slower. 

"Need anything else?" Adora returns with a huff. "I got all my stuff."

Catra probably shouldn't be trusting her to get her stuff - especially not after the milk, but that soft spot just keeps growing. "You know the rice I like?"

"Oh! Yeah, I know." A vigorous nod. Hopefully, she really does. 

"Get the biggest bag this time," Cheaper that way. "Then meet me in produce." 

Idiot runs off to get the rice. If she doesn't get the right kind, the worst case scenario is Catra sends her back, and there sure isn't anything wrong with that. 

Ah, relaxed. 

Towards produce. No bananas, obviously. 

_Budgeting what to get for this week…_

_Versus next week…_

Catra checks her list, carefully selecting an item here and there - being sure not to stray too far from the area, lest Adora get lost. 

Eventually, she returns. Not lost, and with a large bag of rice over her shoulder. "This it?"

"Yep." It actually is. "That's everything for me, I think."

"Got it." 

There's a person coming, so-

"Adora," Catra pulls lightly at Adora's dumbass jacket. "Move. You're in the way."

"Oh!"

Not that Catra cares about being polite to people. Not that she's that much better of a person or anything. Adora is just so stupid. Oblivious. She's embarrassing, honestly. The best kind of embarrassing, and the only kind Catra can stand. But still.

One last survey around. Yeah, that really is everything. 

"Alright, idiot." Catra pokes Adora's side to get her moving again. It’s not necessary, but that’s not the point. “Let's get out of here." 

They start towards the front of the store, going past the bakery section. There's self checkout, and...

Reverse.

Back to the bakery section. 

Adora is staring at cookies. The freshly made ones. She's passed them on their other trips, but they've never tempted her enough to actually stop. 

"What, you want one of those now?" 

"Maybe." She's damn near hypnotized. 

"Then get it." Whatever, Catra's not going to make this a battle. She starts rolling the cart away. Adora can catch up when she's done drooling.

There's no real line today. 

Just one person. 

Still impatient. 

It only takes about thirty seconds before there's a hand on her shoulder. _Warm._ Secretly, or maybe not secretly, Catra is glad that kind of physical contact didn't go away. It did at first, because Adora was afraid. Saying sorry every time she so much as brushed Catra's arm.

Everything else is gone. No kissing, and certainly no more attempts at sex - obviously. 

But that hesitant touching has since returned. Every day, at least once, there's something from both sides. 

On days like today, it's much more at least once.

"Welcome back. Again." Catra scans a jar of pasta sauce. "What'd you decide?"

"I got it."

"Very brave." 

"Thanks," Adora takes the station next to Catra's. "I actually got two. One for me and one for you."

"Ah, of course you did." 

This idiot's new mission is working. Isn't it. Catra really is getting stupider. She wouldn't have let anyone buy her a stupid cookie two months ago, would she? Being vulnerable is easier now. Not just in terms of cookies.

When everything's paid for, Adora insists on carrying one of Catra's bags, plus the rice, along with her own. 

_Sweet._

Out of the store, and to be honest, these walks back are nice. It's already a habit. The sun is starting to set. It's cool outside. 

Catra shivers. 

"Want my jacket?"

"That's why you wear it, huh? To wait for girls to shiver and then offer it to them?"

"Yes." Adora is already setting the groceries she's holding down and-

"No," Catra stops her. "Keep it on, idiot." 

She's not quite there yet.

Close, maybe. 

_She doesn't think she's taking advantage of Adora's kindness anymore…_

But not that, not yet. 

Adora picks up the bags. "Let me know if you change your mind."

They walk for a while. 

_Adora tries to convince Catra to come to a basketball game._

Things have fallen into a pleasant pattern as of late. 

_Catra says no, like always._

It's nice living in this part of the city. 

_Adora starts discussing game tactics._

It's easier to feel safe, calmer. Maybe that's just Adora, though. 

_Catra yawns._

They're both starting to zone out, so it's last second when Catra sees it - and it is just Catra seeing it, because Adora is too busy staring while talking. She quickly tugs Adora's jacket, pulling her close and narrowly avoiding a lamp post.

Adora teeters a moment. The bag of rice almost slides off. 

_What a disaster._

"Watch where you're walking, you idiot."

And back into balance. "I trust you to keep me safe." She's smiling. 

She should definitely not trust Catra with that level of responsibility. "Next time you’re about to walk into something, I’m letting it happen and laughing at you." 

"Yeah yeah." Adora hikes the rice back up onto her shoulder. 

"It would teach you a lesson." 

The next few minutes are a lot more quiet. 

Catra thinks she knows what's coming, because as nice as it’s been, the last week has had an undertone of oddness again. Good, but the strangest since movie night. Adora clearly has the tinglies. 

“... Catra?”

“Hm?”

“Are you comfortable?” Well, that's not a very good start. 

Catra raises an eyebrow. “If you spring questions like that on me, I’ll get uncomfortable real fast."

“I just mean- well, I… Are things okay?” Where is this going, exactly? 

“Yes, Adora. Things are okay.”

“Do you trust me?” Seriously, where? 

Catra stops, turning to face whatever mess is about to come out of Adora’s mouth. “Any time now.”

Oof, Adora is holding her breath. Open up, dumbass.

And release. “I-It’s been three weeks-”

“Yes.”

“And I need to ask-”

“I’m waiting.”

"Can I take you on a date?" 

Time to shoot her best _what the fuck_ face over to a very red idiot. "We've spent all this time making sure things don't get weird, and you had to ask that?" More like blurt, honestly. 

"Okay, okay. I know how it sounds!" Adora is speaking an octave higher than usual. 

"Yes, it sounds insane. You're doing a very bad job at this so far."

"I'm trying _not_ to ambush you. Not like last time. Please let me explain?" Reaaaallly, not like last time…

"Fine." Catra's soft spot is talking, not Catra. "But don't make it weird."

"Like I said, it’s been three weeks, nothing bad has happened, _andthingsarebetterIthink,_ a-and I guess I..." A strained smile. Intense eyes. “I want to get it right.”

Well that's a bad reason. 

Selling the story to her friends would be better than that. 

Adora really sucks at this. It’s fortunate she’s hot.

Uh huh. Catra resumes walking. “You want to get it right, interesting.”

“Hey! Listen, I messed up last time.” Adora hurries after her. “We didn’t talk about it. I just did it, and everything got weird. But I feel like we trust each other now. And we... li...ke each other, and the only way to make things better is if I do it right this time.”

“You’re forgetting who got on top of who." Mm. A little cold, so Catra removes some of the edge. "... You aren’t the only one who went too fast.”

“That’s why I thought this through!” Did she. “We don’t have to kiss. I can make sure we don't." Red, and louder. "I-I mean, we don't even have to have a date, either! Only if you want to. I…"

"You what?"

She's staring at the ground now. "I don’t want to keep holding your hand and calling it nothing. I'm sorry if that's selfish, it's the truth though." 

Nothing.

_Actually, it’s better Adora didn’t mention her friends. This isn’t her image, is it?_

Hm.

“So… No kissing? You’re willing to agree to that?”

Adora nods. "Yeah, none at all. Not until you feel safe. I get it sounds weird, but like… How are we supposed to feel safe enough to do that kind of stuff… If we don't ever have a real date? This weird grey area thing is...weirder...if you ask me." 

Catra doesn't reply. She's thinking. 

_A date can be a baseline._

It's easier to escalate without one- a baseline, that is. Adora has a point. All these touches, what they're doing has almost no rules. 

_A baseline has rules, first dates have rules - at least they're supposed to._

Even if they don't, Adora just offered rules.

Another small plea. "It's been enough time for me to try again… What about you?"

_Huh._

"Okay, say I’m curious." Catra isn't, by the way. Not at all. Nope. "Where would we even go on a date? You know I wouldn't let you pay for a restaurant."

"Somewhere free."

"We're in a city, what's free?"

"It's not about where we go, Catra." Adora laughs nervously. "It's about being with you. We could go to the rooftop for all I care."

"Oh, your favorite place in all of Etheria?"

That would be windy. Adora seems to know it too. "We could go to a nearby park and have a picnic."

"Can you cook well enough for that?"

"Maybe if you help me." 

_Help her._

"Okay," Catra pauses, maybe possibly probably considering the possibility. "If I help you, are you going to dress up?"

"I was thinking I'd just-"

"You're not wearing your red coat. Go big or go home, Adora."

Now Adora is smiling. “Are you saying you’ll do it?”

Mm...

“You really meant that thing about kissing?" Catra chews on her lip. "Not going too far, at least until I have a plan for my future?” 

"I don't want to do anything you don't want to."

Catra wants to. Honestly, the rule is definitely more for her, not Adora. She can't have herself feeling quite that vulnerable again, not until she's steadier. _Not until she knows what her future is like._ Still, she has a feeling it’s going to be harder for her to stick to that than it will be Adora.

Adora is nervous. Catra is not.

But that's alright. 

This idiot is just too sweet. "Alright. One date. Listen, _only one.”_

"Deal." Too, too sweet. "Tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow." 

"Whew…" Adora lets out her anxiety. "I've been thinking about it for days."

"Of course you have."

They're heading towards a crosswalk. Just two blocks away now. 

Adora does that dumb thing people do where she's walking backwards, in front of Catra. Probably so she can stare at her more easily. Excited. Happy. It's cute, acting like someone who leads college tours. 

"So! What should we make for our date? I don't really know what's good, and I'm not a great cook,” Understatement of the year. “But I can get one of those uh, those basket things to put everything in!"

Come to think of it, Adora probably _does_ do those dumb campus tours. Oh, Catra can practically hear it. She's the exact type to tell freshies allllll about how the dining hall isn't that bad, and don't worry because only ten percent of incoming freshmen get put in triples or quads. Also, the AC works in at least half the buildings. She's probably good at it, convincing. 

_It's very charming._

"You're getting too excited. I'll take it back."

"Hey! Come on, Catra. It's our first real date! Can't I be excited?"

Catra would've committed to Etheria University even faster if Adora had been her guide.

Her heart's tempo starts veering a little out of whack. What an idiot. A rushing in her ears. Numbing. Probably her attraction. Then, not. 

Not her attraction. 

Not at all. 

**That's real.**

"Adora!" Catra drops her groceries, surging forwards to grab two fistfuls of Adora's jacket, jerking her back onto the sidewalk. The rice falls though, landing directly in the way of the oncoming truck and immediately splitting as a wheel rolls over it. 

Grinding it into the ground. 

"Fuck!" Catra is shaking. "If you don't watch where you're going you're going to get yourself killed!"

But Adora isn't shaking. Not even a tremble. Not talking either. Her face is white - whiter than usual. She stares at the mangled remains of the bag, unseeing. 

_She’s not shaking. What would most people do? Scream? Cry? Shake? Maybe some would laugh, but Adora isn’t doing any of those things._

"...Your… Your rice…"

"Fuck the rice. Are you okay?" Catra hasn't let go. 

"I-I can't believe I... I- that's- that's how…" 

That’s how.

That’s. How.

That? That sets off alarm bells in Catra’s head.

Red, blaring alarms.

The blonde raises her gaze back to eye level, and for the first time in over a month, and it's then that Catra sees it. Clear as day. A familiar flash. Pair it with what Adora just said and...

Yes. Catra's seen this before. She's ninety nine percent sure of it. 

_It clicks into place._

And this time, it's a mirror. Not quite like when Adora was drunk. Practically about to cry over Catra's cruelty. Odd. Quiet. This time, it's like Catra is looking right into herself from when she was a child. It's something she recognizes only because of her own past, and through Adora's prior confession. 

Those aren't normal eyes. Catra can see _the pit_ gazing right back at her. 

_**'That's how.'** _

It's the one thing they truly share. The past. That pit. A grave. 

Then, back down. Adora is stuck on the remains of the rice. Slack jawed.

Not here at all. 

_**'That's how.'** _

_Staring at the bag. Still. Unmoving. Somewhere else entirely._

Maybe Catra’s gut is wrong. But she doesn't think it is. 

The chance is slim, because Catra doesn’t misread signs.

_**'That's how.'** _

_Staring. Far, far too long._

Catra’s going to take the gamble that she’s correct. 

"Adora, look at me." 

Blank, then scared, blank again, and finally - _almost normal._ Like that, the bubbliness is _almost_ back. As if nothing just happened. But not quite. 

"Right, um. Thanks. Yeah, I really," She glances back at the road once more with a small chuckle. "Need to be more careful..." 

_Indeed, there it just was. A short lived mirror, but a mirror nonetheless._

"It-" Catra clears her throat, voice still off pitch. "It's not your fault. He ran a red light. Sorry I… Yelled..." Finally, she releases Adora and gathers the bags she dropped. 

"I'll go back and get you another one bag of rice?"

"No," Catra steadies her voice. "I just want to go home." 

_Home._

Adora smiles, weakly. "Okay. We can do that." 

She has a different way of handling it. Catra just didn't see it before. Catra sinks, Adora rises - genuinely. How admirable. It might actually be true that Adora's biggest problems are usually stuff like sports and school, but that's only because she forced herself to that.

She still ended up at the Fright Zone a few weeks back. 

So did Catra, for that matter. 

That means something. 

"Come here." Catra adjusts so she can hold all her bags in one hand. Adora does the same, awkwardly shifting everything over. Then, Catra then scoops up Adora's free hand with her own. Much more tightly than usual. They continue walking. Anything to leave that pit behind. "Let's go." 

They stay close to each other's sides for the remainder of the walk home. 

All the way home. 

In the elevator.

And when they step inside the apartment?

_Close._

Bags on the floor. 

They press their foreheads together. A compromise they've come up with. It takes a different meaning right now.

"Are you still sure about having a date?" It's Catra who asks, because it's Catra who knows.

She doesn't need Google to answer her other question. _She understands._ Adora probably had it wiped off the internet anyways.

"... Yeah, I'm sure." 

… Sometimes, life takes things it shouldn't. Big things, and it doesn't make any sense. There's nothing anyone can do about it. Like all pain, it becomes an undertone to life. That’s the unfillable pit. All people can do is learn to live with that pain, that pit, carefully navigating around it - instead of into it. Clearly, they've both done it. Adora's just done a lot better job of it in general. Therapy…?

"Do you want to talk about what happened?"

"I'm okay, really." Another small smile. Yeah, impressive what kind of therapy money can buy. "I think I'm going to unpack and go do homework…"

That's fine... "Alright. Goodnight, Adora. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Tomorrow." Adora starts to pull away. 

So Catra does as well. "And don't forget your cookie." 

-

Catra stays up late every night. Sometimes Adora comes out, but not tonight. 

That's fine. She probably needs extra time putting everything back in the box. That's what Catra calls it when she does it, anyways. 

She's actually caught up on work. 

So this is just obsessive research at this point. 

For the thousandth time, she refreshes the web page and takes a bite of her cookie. 

She expects nothing. 

Nothing like every time before. 

But there it is - _something._ Something damn near perfect. Actually affordable. The roommate? Catra even recognizes her, another quiet type - they'd met freshman year. Probably completely fine to live with. 

She looks up at Adora's door. She feels pain in her chest. Now? Really? After today…? Back to the screen. 

It's the longest she's ever lingered over a button. 

Because she doesn’t want to click it.

_Start Chat._

Even if she has to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a lot of different stuff here. Wanted the fluff, wanted the plot. It was the most fascinating chapter for me to balance. Full circle, honestly.
> 
> Have faith in me, friends.
> 
> __  
> Эти слова всегда для тебя.  
>  \- ВДН


	12. Circle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all! 
> 
> Sorry for the wait. This chapter needed to be long. It's the longest after 6, actually, and it covers quite a lot. I took some extra time to tweak things.

At one time, Adora's sleep was plagued with constant nightmares. Endless amounts of terrible what if scenarios. Nowadays, though? Good dreams, bad dreams - she doesn’t have many of either. It’s a blessing, really. A relief to sleep, wake up, and be rested.

Of course, sometimes she does dream.

And sometimes, like now, it’s a bad one. 

One made up of fuzzy shapes. Uncomfortable ones. Sights and sounds she doesn't want to be near. Try as she might, she can't move. Her legs aren't just slow. They're stuck. Stuck to the asphalt. Images start to form, materializing into something more - yet Adora can't seem to close her eyes. 

Then, something else. 

_"Adora?"_

The disturbing motions stop.

"I-I'm okay…!" She can't tell if she's thinking it or saying it. "I'm okay…" 

And that something else seems to pull her rigid body from the ground. Into a strange warmth, like that of a blanket. Soft and comforting. Hazy. The sharp lines blur until they're nothing more than faint colors. 

_Feels better…_

_Feels safe…_

Melting into it. 

_"Hey..."_ Possibly more words, but too many and too complex to process. 

She wants to reach into the warmth, but just like her legs, her arms are frozen. 

Frustrating. She tries fighting against the lock. 

"Adora." 

Adora's whole body jerks awake. 

Catra withdraws her hand, looking quite bemused. "Woah, you startle easy." Then, a little softer. "Are you alright?"

"Y-Yeah." The blonde is panting. From dreaming, or the panic of being woken...who knows. "Did..." Breathe. "Did you knock?"

"You didn't answer. Anyways, I wanted to let you sleep in," Catra is still close. Leaning over the bed. "And I _did,_ but it's almost noon." 

_Waitwaitwait…!_

Noon!?

Adora struggles to prop herself up. "But- but I never sleep that late, and my morning run!”

"I know, right? What an insult to your run. Oh," Catra holds her chin, smirking. "And let me think...maybe also...our date?" 

Date…!? 

Noon!

Date!

Up!!!

"We have a date!" 

"We do. Did you forget?"

"No!” Adora would _never._ “No, I just didn't remember!" Wait, that… That didn't… Never mind.

Off go the blankets - and Melog, apparently. Since when does Melog sleep on the bed? Catra merely watches the struggle. The hissing. The clawing. Adora's desperate attempts to apologize. Eventually, she manages to extricate herself from the cat chaos. 

"Okay, I'm here. I’m here!” Panting again, but for a different reason. “Good morning!"

"Good morning." Catra crosses her arms, a smirk playing at the edge of her lips. 

"We have to uh, talk! About today." Adora has no clue what to do. She usually plans better than this, but last night was an exception. She worked. She worked until she couldn't keep her eyes open. Then, she slept. That's all. 

She should’ve been up earlier. She could’ve prepared. Gotten something ready. This is embarrassing. This is-

"We do. But since you're so late, just this once," Catra pulls on Adora's nightshirt - an old tee - and tugs her a little closer. "I did the planning, so why don’t you do the listening?"

"... You came up with a plan?”

"I went off yours, it’s not a big deal.”

Adora can't even remember what she suggested yesterday, not after _that._ Whatever Catra says is going to sound new. “Tell me.”

“Alright, here's the deal.” Catra’s tone shifts into straightforwardness. “You’re going to shower while I make us grilled cheese sandwiches, and then you'll get something to put them in. After that, we'll at least get a little dressed up and go to the park downtown. Understood?"

Yes...

Except…

"... Why grilled cheese?" It's so specific. 

Adora isn't sure why her brain got stuck there, but it did. So there's that. 

"Because it's quick." Huff. "Don't overthink it. You said it doesn't matter where we go, and I'm saying it doesn't matter what we eat. Besides, I don't want to spend too much time making food. Now, get ready." 

Alright, alright. 

Catra leaves Adora alone, shutting the door and everything. Alone. With that sticky feeling in her legs. Like there isn’t enough time, but she’s got to get moving. Adora pries her feet from the floor to grab what she needs to prepare.

The shower is practically supersonic. Any faster, the Adora might just melt through the floor. Hair drying? Frustratingly slow. When she finally exits the bathroom, Catra is leaning against the dining table, staring down at her phone in one hand, and smugly holding a plate of grilled cheese sandwiches in the other. She’s wearing a maroon dress shirt. Not tucked in. Black slacks. 

She was most certainly not in that before.

How long did Adora take? 

And- and she had no idea Catra even owned a dress shirt! 

"You didn't go out this morning and _buy that for this, did you?"_

"Relax.” Catra sets down the plate on the table. “It's for an old job I had, but you know, it’s nice."

“You look...amazing." Move legs, move. “I mean, I’d- I’d hire you.”

Clever?

"Uh huh.” Not clever. Catra is doing a far better job than Adora is at not ogling. Unfair, Adora is in her bathrobe. “Got anything for the sandwiches?”

“Yeah, um.” Adora manages to push herself into motion, going into the kitchen and opening a side cabinet. She does actually have one of those generic picnic baskets - an impulse buy, apparently a good one. She brings it back to Catra. “Here. I’ll go get dressed…?”

“You can go like that if you want.”

Okay, yeah. Catra is having too much fun. Time to get dressed. Back into the bedroom to find something…that doesn’t include not her red jacket. A white shirt and...

Her old grey jacket? No.

There’s her black one from high school… Or was it middle school? Also no.

Maybe Adora is coming at this wrong. She pivots to something different - dresses. She only has two, and Catra definitely hasn’t seen either of them before.

A formal one. Red. Maybe someday she’ll use that again. 

_Ugh, imagine Catra in a full suit._

And a sundress. Also red. That’ll work.

Adora changes as quickly as possible, which is good, because Catra doesn’t knock this time. “I made us coffee t- oh, more red.”

Is that a good ‘more red’ or a bad ‘more red?’

"Uh, yep.” Adora turns to face Catra. “Do you like it?"

"I like it." Catra's eyes rove down Adora's body, a good confirmation. "I'm teasing you. Don’t take it so personally. Ready?”

“Ready.”

Adora holds out her hand. 

Catra takes it without question. 

-

And they haven't stopped holding hands. Well, not until now, that is. Now that they're setting up. 

The sun is out, although there’s a cloudfront moving in from the West. Hopefully not rain. Nevertheless, it’s peaceful as Adora unpacks their late lunch. She can smell a nearby creek from here. No, there’s nothing quite like being in nature. Sitting under a tree and taking in everything the world has to offer. Of course, she’s not taking in anything but Catra. To Catra's credit, she's staring back. Intently, a little weirdly, awfully… _sweetly_ for her. Like she's waiting for something.

Adora takes out her coffee thermos and unscrews the top. As soon as she takes a sip of her coffee, it almost comes right back out. 

_The pain. That's what Catra was waiting for._

“C-Catra! Why did you make my mine black!?”

“You know," Catra picks up her own, sweetness gone and face flushing with vindictive joy. “I remember how you like it.”

“I don't like it!” Adora nearly cried last time, and Catra isn’t stupid. “You’re like, smart! You know I don’t like it.”

“Oh Adora, don't get too upset. You'll hurt yourself. You can have mine.”

That’s enough to make Adora falter, because she was planning on continuing her rant. _“Wha-_ really?”

“It was just a joke.” Catra shrugs and offers her thermos. “I don’t mind black coffee. Take mine, seriously.”

Then why’d she have to say yes to milk way back when? Know what, nope. Adora isn’t going to question it. 

“Thanks.” Adora swaps their drinks. “I appreciate that. It’s...really sweet of you.”

Another try, and-

_“OhmyyyGod-!”_ She could cry. In fact, she might actually be. It’s even worse this time, no - it’s the worst thing in the world. It’s the taste of betrayal. Catra is cackling, and Adora wants to die. “You jerk! Did you have to make them both like that!?”

“It was kind of a ‘why not’ decision.” Catra starts to wind down, but still lets out the occasional snicker. "I figured you'd want to swap."

Did she, now? She figured that? Hah. How funny! So funny. That’s enough coffee for today, maybe for life. This one is getting poured out. Onto the grass. Maybe they should just eat. When the blonde looks back, though, Catra is on her phone. It’s abrupt. 

Totally contrary to what just happened. 

“Hey...what’s up?”

“Mm?” Catra flips her phone over, smiling again, but more weakly. “Nothing.”

_Is something bothering her? She checked a few times on the way over too…_

What she needs is a good old fashioned distraction. 

“Come here?” Adora lays back onto the grass.

Catra follows without argument, carefully placing her head on Adora’s collar. _Much better._ Soon, she begins tracing one of Adora’s arms. It’s a source of pride, a ton of work has gone into them these past few years. 

_Maybe that day at the gym wasn't useless after all._

"You know, Catra. If this becomes a thing…"

"Hm?"

"We could work out together." Please keep in mind that a workout date sounds like an excellent idea to Adora. "It could be a weekly activity." Even if-

"A weekly 'activity?' I would rather die."

… Even if _that._ Well anyways, "I had to try." 

"The most you'll get is me watching you exercise."

That works. 

"How about we meet in the middle? We could do the thing where you hold onto me while I do pull ups." Adora smiles, even though Catra can’t see it.

"You can do pull ups?"

Of course Adora can do them. She's worked out for years now.

In fact, "Yeah! I can even do one armed pull ups."

"Huh." Catra might be vaguely impressed, but she still goes silent.

No matter. 

It's peaceful.

Adora stares up at the clouds now rolling over them. The sun, as well as its welcome heat, is fast disappearing. What disappears yet faster, however, are the fingers on Adora’s arm. Although it takes a moment for Adora to register it... 

Catra is reading something on her phone- no, texting someone _again._ Again. If she keeps doing that, how are they ever going to have a real conversation?

She hasn't realized Adora noticed. 

Well...

Oh...

Okay.

It should be annoying, but maybe Adora is starting to know better…

It’s worrying.

She was so together earlier, so why does she keep disconnecting?

A pang.

_She had asked if Adora still wanted to do the date today._

That’s more than worrying. Maybe it’s what happened yesterday. Adora forces herself not to read whatever conversation Catra is having - whatever distraction it is. Ugh, it has to be yesterday. What if… What if Catra is uncomfortable with what happened? What if she’s trying to forget about it? _What if she doesn’t want to do thi- ugh,_ just say something.

"Hey, um. Is something on your mind? You kind of..." Adora drops into concern.

"Hm? No.” Catra clicks her screen off. Not convincing at all. “Something on yours?"

“... Is it about yesterday?” Hesitant.

“No, Adora.” And irritated. “It’s just-”

Oh no. Now there’s no doubt. What else could be distracting her so much? 

“It’s okay! I don’t want what happened to ruin this. I- I'll explain.” Well, this isn’t the ideal time to have a conversation like this. But if Catra is losing interest this fast… “It was my fault, I scared you-”

“Adora, it’s not-”

“-I shouldn’t have shut down either. I should've talked about it last night, it was about my-”

"Stop. You don't have to,” Catra takes Adora’s hand in an obvious effort to quiet her. “I already know."

"How… How?” Catra always seems to know. Always. 

“Because you’re obvious, and… Because I’m the same.” That’s right. She is. “But if it makes you any less weird about today, and you want to talk about it, I’m here.”

_… Truly?_

It's not that Adora wants to talk about it. It's that that wall inside - the wall that keeps what happened away from everyone else, seems to have evaporated. Because besides professionals, the only person she's ever talked to about this is Catra… Once drunk, apparently and once sober... 

_And this time she’s willing to listen._

Stop…?

Go for it…?

Or…

Catra is waiting. She moves her head right over Adora’s heart. Listening. How does she manage to be so strange yet so sweet? Adora feels her chest rumble.

It’s going to spill out- why on their date? - oh man. There's no stopping it. "It- It was an accident. A dumb one-"

"Don't call it dumb, Adora."

"Okay, it’s not dumb then.” She begins stroking Catra’s hair. Something for her free hand to do. “I guess to start…well it, uh, it bothers me sometimes. Like I said, it's worst on that day. You know I go out. Alone and stuff."

_But that's not really the issue._

Catra’s breath moves to Adora’s neck, comforting this time. "How about yesterday? New?"

_That is._

"... Yeah. That was new."

"I get that." 

“I haven’t freaked out that badly in a long time.” Adora mumbles, fingers working more roughly into Catra’s hair. “I didn’t think it happened on the anniversary. I… I spent so much time trying to control it. If I'm being honest, I think I’m disappointed in myself. I have to do better. Be someone they'd be proud of."

"Wow,” Catra sighs, Adora shudders. _“That_ sounds like a stupidly high bar."

"... It does?" 

“Yeah, way too high. You should probably let that shit go.” It’s impressive how this woman has a distinct, hm, lack… Of a way with words. Very little sugar coating. 

So those words pierce. They’re opposite of any advice Adora’s ever been given. Make them proud. _Work hard at sports. Figure out investing. Be kinder…_

It's not even paid advice. 

Alright.

“I’ll… Try. I don’t- I don’t really tell people that stuff. So… Thanks.” For offering some slack.

Really.

"Yeah, of course. Plus that way, next time you get upset? Maybe you won't hole yourself up in your room...or get drunk all alone because you don't know how to deal with yourself.” Catra is definitely rolling her eyes. “Or because you don’t want to bother anyone with your problems."

Wow. Sweet, but also-

"Okay, firstly, look who’s talking. Secondly, I can handle my problems." Adora is confident she can, at least most of the time. 

"Yeah, no." Even if Catra is not. 

"Seriously!” Adora laughs. “You do the same thing! Why were you at the Fright Zone? Don't tell me you don't drown out your feelings too." 

"I’m not like you. I'm not trying to be noble, I usually just want to be left the fuck alone." Sure, Catra. Sure.

"Says the woman laying on me right now."

"Don't get smart."

_"I'm not getting smart."_ Oh- Oh this jerk. Adora playfully shoves Catra off, almost rolling her - a joke, but immediately longs for the warmth to return. Not just because it's starting to get cold. 

"Hey- Adora!"

The blonde takes no time in closing the distance she just created. Close again. They’re both on their sides, staring at each other. "You deserved that."

“Asshole.”

It’s wonderful. Telling someone how she feels. Someone she isn’t paying to listen. It feels like a weight off her chest. She might have said it before, but having Catra not behave dismissively is… Refreshing. 

“Thank you.” Adora smiles. “Saying that out loud helped.”

Maybe sharing her burdens is a good thing after all. 

Then, a shift. Something in Catra's expression changes, but the blonde can't quite place it. 

“Yeah, talking… No problem…” 

Adora can feel her heart begin to pound, how predictable. Thank God Catra isn’t on top of her to hear this.

"... Adora… I…" Her voice is soft. Soft and low. Much different than the joking tone from seconds earlier. 

It’s a struggle to hammer it home: No kissing. Not until Catra says so for certain. Not until she's ready and feels stable. But that doesn't mean Adora has to stop staring at Catra's lips, right?

"... I guess I should…mm..." Yet lower, and yet more serious. 

… Oh???

_Maybe rules are meant to be broken…_

_Only if…_

_Catra wants to…_

_Scorpia did say to wait for her to make the first move._

Catra edges even closer. Ohhhhman…

_No, no. Adora said she wouldn't let it happen._

_Resist._

_Even if…_

_So close…_

"... I don't know what happened to mine..." She reads the whisper off Catra's lips more than she actually hears it. 

Oh, God. 

No, that's not strong enough for a time like this. 

**Oh crap.**

Why can't Adora ever read signals correctly? 

How could she forget what they were literally just talking about!?

It takes everything in her not to pull away - an impulsive reaction, not out of disappointment, no. Only out of horror. No, no. This is not an appropriate time to pull away. Guilt floods every vein in Adora's body. To be fair, this is completely unexpected. She would have never asked Catra what happened. 

Never. 

And she never expected to be told in that manner.

Just. To be told. Like that.

It's clear Catra has never spoken these words aloud to anyone. 

"L-Listen, Catra. You don't have to talk about the past." Adora whispers back, bordering on frantic. "I know you don't like to. You don't-"

"I know, I know. I said that I wouldn't, and- and…" Catra struggles to find the words. "I meant it. I didn't think I could. But after everything that's happened, maybe you have a point about talking… I never have, so if I'm going to, I want it to be with you, Adora." Her. 

_Her._

Catra is still so quiet. It feels as if they're the only two people on the planet, yet also like they're trying to keep secrets from the Earth itself. 

“Me…?”

“Yeah you, idiot." 

"Okay." Adora tries to gather herself. Prepare. Something. "You can tell me."

"I try not to think about it... I was young..." A nervous sigh, yet Catra's eyes do not waver. They do not allow the blonde to break contact. 

Not that she would try. 

"So I don't really… Remember them. I know they were there, then- then they weren't." Her voice breaks in that small way only Adora can recognize. 

Hands. _Adora holds both of Catra's hands._ Is she sure about this? 

"And the funerals were rushed, closed casket - if that says anything…" Catra clears her throat. "Nobody told me what really happened. Honestly, I don't think the cops knew either. Or cared."

Adora forces herself to swallow a gasp. To keep completely quiet.

Those words have an immediate effect. Because that's not fair.

_They make her blood boil. Why didn't they do a proper investigation?_

That- 

"So. That's what happened… Nothing, kind of." No. Not nothing. "I've never said it out loud before. Maybe now I said it, I'll process it more...or something like that. Like you said."

_She shouldn't be getting this angry. But why'd they keep a little girl in the dark?_

That's. Not. Fair. 

_Try to calm down. Just, calm._

Catra's eyes are sharp. "Adora?"

_Be present. For her._

Adora feels selfish. She aches for closure - for both of them. Answers. A reason. An explanation behind how Catra was hurt so badly. It's not fair to not know. People deserve answers. Catra deserves both more than anyone Adora has ever known. 

A very protective urge - because Adora could find out. She has the resources to get the answer. She could do it right now, pay for the truth. The anger swells again, this time to its peak. But that's the wrong kind of urge. Catra isn't asking for that. 

She’s asking to talk.

_Frustrated._

Snap, back to the real world. Kind of.

"You don't need to act so horrified." Catra teases, voice stronger. Although her heart doesn't seem entirely in it. "That's how it is sometimes."

"I'm-" A reminder to breathe. "-I'm not acting. You know I can't act. I’m just- I’m so sorry, Catra.”

"Well, it’s fine. Now you know.” A mutter. “... Now someone knows. I hope you’re right, maybe it’ll help...somehow...”

The level of trust that must’ve taken is something Adora can’t even begin to imagine. "I promise I won't tell anyone. I-I swear. It can be, um, our secret?"

"I'm pretty sure it already is." Catra’s laugh is weak, hoarse. "Now we're even. That's everything, huh. You know more about me than anyone."

_What is it they say about humor and grief?_

_Strange…_

_So strange…_

_Catra said all that._

_No crying, no yelling, no fear._

_Just open._

_Like… It's normal._

Except it’s not, nothing about what happened is normal. Adora tries to think of something sensitive. Something that isn’t too invasive. Something that isn’t accidentally condescending, or lets on her own anger. 

“Catra, I-”

Whatever Adora is feeling, Catra is done. She holds a finger up to the blonde’s lips. “I said it. That’s all I want to say. I don’t want to do the emotional shit you do, not any time soon."

“Okay.” 

“I just wanted you to know.”

“Thank you.” That's all there really is to say. 

The vulnerability was certainly real. But it's gone now. 

"Back to our date?" Catra offers up a small smile. Unreal, how is she not upset? Does she just accept that? No closure? "Because honestly, Adora, you're going to have to up your game. That's the best conversation we've had so far." 

"Yeah…" Adora sits up, trying to come up with a topic other than what Catra just told her. Trying to get back to their date, like she said. 

"Hey, get back here. It's cold.” 

_Umph._

Catra pulls Adora back down onto the ground, pushing her flat with the palm of her hand. Then lays down, bodies touching and with head on Adora's chest. It helps settle the turmoil. _Butterflies,_ that’s the second time she’s done that. 

Then, a swell of unexpected happiness that further jogs Adora out of her upset. It’s starting to feel like maybe _she’s_ Catra’s favorite place in the world. 

Trust...

Catra trusts her with what happened - and she trusts her not to be stupid. If she wants help someday, Adora will be there.

_Adora will always be there._

Finally, the upset dies out. Fades. 

Trust.

“Heh. It's cold for you? In your dress shirt and slacks?”

“Oh shut up.”

"Bet you wish I had my jacket now.” Honestly, so does Adora. It’s chilly now. Wearing a dress was… An idea… Nevertheless, she wraps an arm around Catra’s waist to warm her, then uses her other hand to dig for one of those almost forgotten sandwiches. She savors the taste, letting the minutes pass by without interruption.

Delicious. 

_The clouds are at their darkest._

Maybe for real, but maybe because Catra made it.

_And the sun is now entirely gone._

Who cares.

_It’s no issue, it serves as another reason to huddle close._

Soon, Adora begins to wonder. How long has it been, anyway…? Is Catra asleep?

As if on cue, “Mmthefuck...” Nope. Just sleepy. “Adorrra…?”

“What is it?” Adora doesn't think she did anything to prompt a reaction. 

“What’re you doing…? What’s that…”

What’s she- oh, ohohoh. Now she feels it too. It’s her own fault, really. She literally watched this arrive. Oh well, they're just going to have to deal with her inaction.

Adora rubs Catra’s back, trying not to put too much urgency into it. “Catra, get up. It’s about to rain.”

_"What?"_ So much for limiting panic. Catra rises so quickly, she staggers. “It’s about to rain!? Why didn't you say anything?"

Yep… Time to cut this picnic short, unfortunately. 

"We have to go back." Adora picks up the basket. Another glance at the sky, now so, so dark. "Phones in here???"

"Yeah, uh," Catra fumbles with hers, even now checking that conversation, then shoves it in. 

Perfect timing. 

Because it's then that it turns on. Like a faucet. Like those summer storms that happen when there aren’t even clouds, that kind of supernatural intensity. No tree can save them from this.

They run from the hill. Adora laughing, Catra not. 

"Why the fuck did it have to rain? The universe hates me."

To the path out of the park. 

"Well I don't! But you have to hurry up, it's freezing!"

To the road that leads home. 

"I'm not an athlete, Adora."

Adora would have run the whole way back, but eventually, Catra gives up - citing that they're screwed anyways. She's right. When they walk into the apartment, they're soaked. No shower or bath could've gotten them that wet.

Phones? They're okay. Bless that, at least. 

Catra shoots off yet another text, a little more discreetly this time, but still. After all that? It really wasn't about yesterday? _What on Earth could be so important?_

Adora fights the urge to roll her eyes. Then, an idea. 

_They agreed, no kissing - that's the line._

"Hey, help me get this dress off."

_All Adora has to do is not kiss her._

Catra's gaze snaps up. "What!?"

_Some teasing can't be so bad, right?_

"Or," Adora grins, watching Catra fluster from the directness. "You know, I can go to my room and do it myself."

This is a date, after all.

-  
 _  
… Tick._

_Tick…_

_… Tick._

_Tick…_

… Well, it was. 

A wonderful one, in fact. Minus a couple hiccups. Okay, maybe they were major hiccups at the start. But that's alright, because the date still extended far past a normal start and end. Past changing into dry clothes. Into the evening. Into dinner - they cooked together. With every bit of hurt out in the open, there were no barriers. The evening went smoothly. So beautifully...

Until it stopped. Sometime after nightfall, like all things eventually must. 

_It is completely silent. Adora glances at the clock. It's exactly two in the morning. Ah…_

No, she is not asleep. Sleeping in so late certainly royally screwed that up, but that's not to mention that she can't stop thinking. About what happened to Catra…

About…

How close they were. Taking off each other's clothes. A whole host of confusing emotions. 

About...

_That soft tapping on the door._

Is that…?

She isn't sure what to do. She waits for another tap, just to be certain. When it comes, there is no more doubt. She slides out of bed, and after no deliberation at all, opens the door. 

Catra stares into Adora's eyes with such burning intensity that Adora thinks she might melt. White-blue moonlight shines through the nearest window, bathing everything in a cool glow. Catra is no different. Adora can barely see that shade of red on her cheeks. 

"Hey, Adora." She greets quietly, then leans against the door frame. Her gaze stays low. "I can't sleep."

"Me neither, to be honest."

"Too many thoughts." Catra rubs her neck. _She's worried._

"I know what you mean." 

A few uncertain seconds pass before she finally looks up. As she does, she steps forward, almost pressing against Adora's body. "... I have to tell you something." 

But… Nothing.

_She's not saying it._

She's staring. 

And something about how she does makes the blonde's heart break. 

No, Catra isn't saying it at all. She's looking, searching Adora's face. Oh… Adora shouldn't have teased… Now Catra's hovering, unyielding…

_R-Rules. Remember the rules-_

Until, "I'm leaving."

**_Wait, she-..._ **

Yet Adora cannot reply. Not coherently, not clearly. She tries, but it's stutter. A shallow and useless attempt. One that goes nowhere. Not only because it is pain that takes words away from her, and not only because shock impedes her speech, but also because _it's simply impossible whenever their lips come together._

Slow motion. Adora feels herself being pushed backwards into the room, and vaguely, distantly, the door clicks shut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So… Here we are. One left. Excited?
> 
> (Hi Hawke :) )


	13. Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, we have arrived at the E. The end and the explicit. 
> 
> Uh… Long chapter? It took what it took, lmao. Which was…a lot. But it's the final one! Huzzah! 
> 
> Anywho. Ta-ta M, 'twas nice knowing you. 
> 
> Without further ado, here we go.

_People lament about not recognizing what matters until it's gone, but actual tragedy is watching what matters slip away just after discovering its true importance._

With that said, Catra truly believes she's seeing the writing on the wall. 

She waited too long, didn't she? Awkwardly texting, not saying the truth - all because she didn't want to ruin the date. Now there's no way to tell Adora any way other than abruptly. It's going to be like last time, but this time, it's going to be worse. 

It’s that fucking text that did this to her, that’s when it happened. The final one confirming the plan for tomorrow. If all goes well - which it will, because Catra can't find one single thing wrong with the place - it'll be done. It's an urgent move in. Some sort of emergency on the her future roommate's end, which quite fucking frankly, has sparked an emergency for Catra too. 

Because Catra realized something- or maybe a few things when she read that text. 

_Today...yesterday…it was almost perfect. She wants nothing more than to stay. She needs Adora. She even…_

But what's she supposed to say?

It's too fucking late.

Adora will wake up early tomorrow. 

She'll leave for the day before Catra. Even if Catra is around when she comes back, then what? 

Thanks for the date...? Oh, and also goodbye? Talk soon!

Memories of how last time went start torturing Catra's mind, because Adora doesn't have any reason to believe her. She'll think something is wrong. That Catra is running away. Amidst this panic, amidst this horrific pain in her chest, Catra doesn't know how to make that kind of wrong right. 

_What if Adora doesn't want her anymore?_

_What if she's angry?_

It doesn't matter how kindly Catra puts it. It's going to break her heart. 

Whose heart? Good question. 

There’s probably a part of her that knows the truth. A part fully capable of calmly piecing together that Adora would never be angry at her. But Catra is not thinking, she is feeling. 

She's not thinking when she gets up. No, she hasn't tried to sleep. Seriously, she isn't dressed for bed. It doesn't matter what time it is, rising from the couch takes no thought. Moving over to the bedroom door is pure instinct, because fuck, she has to try to tell Adora. 

She promised to try - always try. 

_Please be awake._

Try to explain. 

_If she can find the words._

How much this hurts. 

_How much she needs her._

She knocks quietly on the door a few times. 

_She'll come back, this isn't anger._

And then again. 

_Because she… She lo-_

Open. There she is. The guilt is intolerable, and it drives Catra's gaze into the ground. 

"Hey, Adora." At least she can speak, even if her vocal chords protest. "I can't sleep."

"Me neither, to be honest."

"Too many thoughts." 

She should've fucking said something sooner. She shouldn't have hidden it. What is Adora going to think now? 

"I know what you mean." No, she definitely doesn't. 

Catra doesn't want to say it. She doesn't want to face that feeling in her chest. She could leave, she could say nothing. She could do that, couldn't she? 

“I have to tell you something.” 

But no matter how long she waits, no matter how many seconds pass, Adora will still be waiting for the truth. Even if it's a year from now. Or four, apparently. 

So, there’s nothing left but to force it out.

“I’m leaving.”

The regret is immediate. Catra looks up at Adora, unable to think of any words to relieve that confusion - and those unmistakable signs of grief. Maybe if she thought harder, she would've eventually found something acceptable. 

_"You didn't screw up."_ Or, _"I'm coming back to see you."_ Perhaps something stronger…

But there's nothing. Just blankness. That feeling...

That fear. 

Because she isn't sure if Adora is about to pull back into the room. It wouldn't be like her to, but once again, the memory of the last time Catra left starts going on repeat. How she'd treated Adora when she had tried to reach out. The shame is overwhelming. Yes. If Adora wanted to, she would have every reason to shut the door.

Catra steps forwards - an effort to stop her from even considering it. 

_Need._

And when she does kiss her, she doesn't stop to consider their agreement.

_Please understand._

It might as well be from a thousand years ago, because Catra is leaving. 

_Adora needs to know Catra needs her._

Adora doesn't have any time to respond, because Catra doesn't want to hear it. She needs to be heard. It's soft at first, but quickly becomes uncoordinated. 

_In every way._

Catra pushes them both into the room, shutting the door with her foot once inside. It's so much different than their first. With quiet moans, the two stumble gracelessly towards Adora's bed. _Melog scurries away._ The blonde grunts when Catra presses her down onto it, eventually forcing Adora to brace her elbows against the mattress - halfway sitting, halfway lying with Catra's body hovering mere inches above her. 

A hand on Catra's chest. Pushing.

Their lips part.

"Catra-" Adora sucks down air like she's never breathed before. "W-wait, wait. We have to talk."

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck! 

"Sorry." Through gritted teeth. 

"We agreed to- to _not_ do that. And then," Adora is clearly trying very hard to put this together. "You said you're leaving? And now- I'm- God. I'm so confused."

Catra just stares. Trying to bring forth an explanation. It's not coming any easier than before. In fact, it might be harder. 

"What's going on?" Adora's voice softens. "Why are you telling me this in the middle of the night?"

"I didn’t know when else to." 

Well, that's something. It takes Catra a second to register that she even said anything. 

Adora blinks in further confusion. "You're not, uh, you're not making this any clearer." 

More, give her more, Catra. "...Unless something goes...really wrong," More gritted teeth. Maybe grinding. She can't tell, and it doesn't matter, because at least it's coming out. "I'm probably leaving tomorrow, Adora… I didn't know how to tell you."

"Tomorrow…" Mm, this is what she was trying to avoid. The blonde looks pained. But credit to her, even if she is, she's not addressing it. "So you kissed me? I don't really- sorry, I don't get where that fits in…"

"... Adora, I-... Last time I left... I didn't come back…" Catra hangs her head low. Ashamed. 

Adora shifts her weight onto one arm, hand coming to rest on Catra's cheek. "Is that what this is?"

"It's not just that. You need to know that I-..."

Her throat seems to close again. Fuck, God damn it. 

_Sometimes, Catra doesn't know how to speak._

_She only knows how to show._

"I know, Catra. I know." No. No, Adora doesn't get it. Catra tries to interject, but nothing comes. "I'm happy for you. I know you're not leaving forever. You don't have to prove that you're a different person, not to me."

That hits. 

Hard enough that Catra actually considers running away. Fuck, her brain kicks into gear again. 

But why would she, because when is she really mad? 

_What if she thinks Catra doesn't want her?_ Adora is too kind for that. 

Yes, Catra feels very, very stupid. Worse than ashamed. Yet instead of pulling away, she presses her head into Adora's shoulder.

It has to be quite an inconvenient position, but Adora doesn't object. "Did you really think I'd be upset at you...?" 

"I… It was dumb."

"Don't call it dumb, Catra." Damn this woman. That's not a fair play. "This isn't like last time. We understand each other better now… We can say we care about each other."

 _Care is a light word._

"Are you sure I didn’t ruin this?"

"Positive," Adora shakes her head. "I mean- you really, uh… Confused me. A lot… And next time," Hah, what an idea. Next time. "Maybe start with the explanation. But I think I get it now, so yeah, no. Leaving… Feelings… Anddd…"

Each awkward word soothes. Each mistake. A reminder that Catra isn't the only one who can't use her words all that well, although… She can feel Adora trembling slightly.

"Are you okay?” Catra lifts her head. 

“Sorry! This is- heh, getting painful on my arms.” 

“... Then stop?”

“Yeah, you’re right. I think I’ll just- yup.” Adora lets her elbows give way, falling onto the bed with a relieved sigh. “Thanks.” 

Catra comes with, settling herself on top, face in the crook of Adora’s neck. Lucky that Adora is taller. It takes everything not to curl into a ball, because she wants to hide her embarrassment. Of course… There’s also the whole reason she came here, too.

“I don’t want to leave.” A whisper, accompanied by a dull throb in her chest. 

"It's okay to feel that way."

"... I don't want to go back out there either."

Adora wraps both arms around Catra’s body. The warmth is almost excruciating.

“Then you can stay here for tonight." She says it easily. Invitingly. "You know, if you want."

"... You mean that?" So many times. There were so many times Catra should have done that. Why did she punish herself with the couch?

“It's your last night, and it's uh...a big bed.”

Big bed, huh.

Catra isn't going to screw this offer up. She's just going to take it at face value - because that's probably the best way to take Adora, face value. “Okay.”

Funny how neither move to limit contact. Funny how Adora's arms remain. Funny how Catra nuzzles closer. 

Funny about that shudder. “Are you… Uh, feeling better-ish?"

“Mm. I think so."

"Can I ask something then?"

“... About the kiss. I-I know you said it's about last time you left, but… What about the rule thing…?"

"Doesn't matter." At least that one's easy to answer. 

"Why not?" 

“Because,” She fights that feeling in her throat - the one telling her to hide it. _She fights it because it's wrong, and because Adora wants her._ Adora wants her to be here. “Because after I got my stupid plan all I could think about...is how…"

Adora's embrace tightens a little. "I'm here."

"How I need you.”

And tighter. 

"Catra…" Her voice breaks. “Look at me?”

Catra does. Adora is not crying, surprisingly. She's just… Oh. It’s much different with her initiating, and like that, Catra's remaining shame disappears into softness. It's tempered. Adora keeps it brief at first...

“I need you too.” 

At first - because Catra expects her to stop there. But she comes back. Still tender, still just a touch further away than Catra aches for. An invitation…

“Okay, Catra? Please believe me."

If Catra wants more, she needs to show it. “Okay. I believe you." 

It's not a conscious decision. Actions such as these never are. At first it's deepening the kiss, then it's tongue. If Catra is honest with herself, there may still be a little bit of pain in her movements, but this time it's overwhelmingly drowned out by the trust in her chest. The slight burn urges Catra's hands up Adora's cheeks, into the blonde hair. She bunches it, a moan - and that is simply too much. She moves to straddle Adora before she can stop herself. The controlled manner from before is long gone. 

_Need._

It’s exquisite. 

_Need…_

But Catra forces herself away from the kiss with a shudder. “Listen, if we don’t stop-”

"Catra, wait, I-I've never felt like this before." Adora's voice is pleading. 

Catra hasn't felt like this either. Not ever this heated. "We shouldn't. I'm leaving soon, maybe I should go now. I could hurt you again or-"

 _"Please don't."_ Adora moves to cup Catra's cheek again. It's enough to keep her still. "Just for tonight, stay. You'd never… You're not going to hurt me. Please."

Catra doesn't deny it, but she doesn't quite accept either. "I want to, but I don't really know what I'm doing, Adora. I don't know if I should trust myself."

She really doesn't know. At one point, she thought she knew how to get through life. 

But being here…? Leaving?

Life after college, too. 

Adora herself. 

Maybe really is a soft way to put it, because now it feels like Catra never knows what she's doing. Like she's blundering through life. It's chaos, even finding a new apartment ended up being chaos. Letting herself be with Adora? How is she supposed to know how to navigate that? 

"Really…? That's okay." A strange expression, comforting - yet almost relieved. "Because honestly, I don't know what I’m doing either. But I trust you."

Catra still doesn't want to let herself have it - and there's that fear, what if she lets Adora down again? What if she fucks up her only sense of home? 

"What if I ruin things?"

"You're not going to ruin things. I'm here. We always talk and work through stuff. I just- I want to be with you."

"Adora…"

"I mean it when I say I trust you. I don’t want to pressure you, and- and I’m nervous too...but I... Please think about it…? Even if we don't, at least stay here."

Catra can see it in her eyes. That nervous excitement. This idiot is so pure and innocent. She runs her hands back up to Adora's cheeks, then follows by positioning her mouth next to her ear. "You know… I trust you too. You know I want to."

_Shiver. The best kind. Pushing Catra to decide._

"Then… Why don't we try?" There's so much hope in her voice. 

" … Mm. You really believe in us. You believe what you're saying, don't you?"

"I do. I really, really do. We can figure it out."

_Figure it out._

They've spent a long time now. Figuring it out. 

"Oh, and- uh-" Adora's words prompt Catra back to attention. "If you don't want to, or- or if you do and panic again," A very, stupidly sweet smile. Excitement totally restrained. "You can tell me. I'll get snacks if you want, we can sit through it. Or I'll help you pack. I know I can't make you, but whatever happens. Stay."

That kind of care is the shit that breaks Catra down to nothing. "I…"

"Please, Catra."

_Decision made._

She's going to do everything she can for Adora. "Okay."

"Okay?" Joy and relief. "Okay! But… Okay to...uhh, what exactly?"

"Being together, then maybe snacks." Probably no snacks, but at least Adora smiles at that. "You're so fucking stupid though, so I'm doing you first."

Besides, that'll calm whatever nerves Adora has left. Hopefully. Yeah, Catra is going to do everything she possibly can for this idiot. 

Adora's eyes widen, because it's sudden when Catra straightens up. She sits up too, looking like she's about to ask _why,_ but Catra is determined to make the answer come to her. Insistent hands tug at Adora's shirt. It's a brief struggle to remove the offending piece of clothing, but with a little maneuvering, the shirt falls silently to the floor. She is not wearing anything underneath. Catra is well practiced at this. She relishes Adora's shudder. 

_Mesmerizingly blue eyes._

_Glowing white skin._

_It always gets Catra - it always has, and it always will._

Shirt now off, Catra pushes Adora right back down onto the mattress to pin her, thighs reclaiming their spot on either side of Adora's stomach - even if only for a moment. She towers above, swiftly pulling her own shirt over her head in one smooth stroke.

Then the bra, and Adora looks like she could pass out. 

Well, _don't,_ or Catra will have to stop. But also, thanks?

She dips down low, teasing hot breath against the blonde's throat. 

Adora's eyes go even wider than they already were. "Oh- _uhyoureally-"_

"Sh, relax. I have this." 

The teasing isn't to last long. Catra wants to give more, and so she starts marking down Adora’s body, begrudgingly giving up the straddle. It was good while it lasted. First, Catra marks her - and it’s oh so wonderful, and she fights the urge to stay there forever. The kisses steadily descend to a sharp clavicle. 

Adora's breath catches - fuck, Catra really hasn't ever felt so close to someone. Emotionally or physically. 

Never.

_Adora squirms at her touch._

Never - as her hard kisses turned soft play between Adora's breasts. 

_Almost getting tenser._

Never - and Adora gasps as Catra's tongue rolls over one of her nipples.

_And tenser…_

Never - when Catra drags teeth across that simply unfair stomach.

_Is that normal? For Adora, that is._

This is addictive. In each region, Catra wants nothing more than to stay, but she doesn't. She can't. She needs, and so is always moving further south. It seems to click for Adora when Catra’s fingers hook the waistband of her sweatpants, pulling them down a few inches. 

Suddenly, "Uhhm- how are you…a-ahn…”

The start of the question prompts Catra to move back up - it's the first time, and she kisses Adora's lower abs again while she waits. Intent on doing everything she can to break them. Her eyes dart up to meet Adora's.

“H-How are you so good at this? You said you don't know what y-you're doing with this. Have you, _nnnmhh,_ have you done it before?" 

When did Catra say that? Catra swears didn't say she didn't know sex. Well. Guess Adora still hasn't picked up on the world's worst nickname, that's good. _Still, is this really the right question to be asking right now?_

"Mmm," Catra takes a breath, considering her answer. "Yeah. You?” 

"... Uhhh...once..."

Okay… And? 

"Uh huh." Catra delivers another sharp kiss. More of a bite. 

And Adora inhales sharply. "Ye-heeep…. J-Just asked because… You're good…"

There's that again, calling Catra good. Getting weird now. 

"Am I supposed to be bad?" 

Now it's Adora who can't seem to speak. She's staring down at Catra, trembling lips sealed. This is a big fucking difference from before, Catra is having second thoughts. 

"Adora, just spit it out." 

"I guess it's not really uh, a big deal, maybe I misheard." This sweet idiot is practically sweating bullets. What on Earth... "I-I mean, I knew you knew more...! Like..." 

“Uh huh.” That’s obvious, Adora had been pretty submissive last time this almost happened. So what?

"Like you're direct and stuff… But I didn't know how much…"

“Yeah? What are you getting at?" Catra takes the time to focus less on the skin in front of her and more on Adora's face.

Oh shit. That girl is a bottle.

About to pop. 

“I guess I thought maybe we were going to learn some of this together," Oh shit. "And you said you didn't know so I didn't really think about it, b-but now you're _notevenhesitating_ I realize it's a lot more and you should probably know-"

"Okay, chill out.” Catra abandons Adora's stomach completely. She's still processing that verbal mess. "What the hell is going on?"

“I don’t want to mess this up, Catra.” She's really panicking. “If you know what you’re doing and I don’t- if it’s just me figuring it out then...then…"

Oh. Oh! 

Catra could laugh. 

She's not going to. 

Because Adora looks mortified. 

But yeah, Catra could laugh. 

“C-Calm down." _And don't snicker either._ "It's really fine not to know that much.” 

For some, Adora's inexperience might seem predictable. Maybe if Catra paid more attention, she would've guessed that too. Adora is too sweet, too dorky, and too innocent to have done that much. 

But Catra spent a long time forming opinions without much evidence. Not just about homework. All this time, she had just assumed miss rich-buff-basketball player-princess had a little more under her belt. That sort of logic makes sense on the surface level, at least to Catra. 

So, to call this unexpected would be an understatement.

At least Adora doesn’t look totally on the verge of tears. “It’s really okay? You don't care?"

“Yeah. Still, I get you thought I said I was inexperienced five minutes ago, but I didn't say anything like that on movie night." Catra was aggressive then too. "Why didn't you think to tell me any of this earlier?" 

"We were...going fast," Adora is refusing to look Catra in the eye. At least she slowed down. Maybe a bit too much. "And we didn't get that far, so I didn't think about it…plus you freaked out… Then, like I said about tonight… I thought maybe…we were on the same level…ish… Thought it would come up normally and we'd help each other, until you did that…"

Alright, guilt about wanting to laugh. This might be more severe than Catra thought. Because speaking of levels, what sort of gap are they talking about, anyways? 

Although, maybe Adora is overthinking it. She did say she'd had sex once. “O-kay. Well. What _do_ you know about this?”

A stiff embarrassment. "Um. It was forever ago... She, uh… She kind of...took charge…she-... Ugh…"

Oh.

Well. 

Hm. 

That kind of level gap…is impressive. 

It all clicks into place. 

So, Adora thought Catra was a little more experienced, and Catra thought Adora was a little less. 

This is un-fucking-believable.

Why does everything have to be some sort of miscommunication? Can't they just get it right the first time? 

Yep, the urge to laugh is definitely gone. 

Catra wants to bury her face in her hands. At this point, she has half a mind to call this whole thing off from awkwardness alone. "Christ, how'd you get yourself in this situation? You're what, almost twenty two?"

But shit, that was a bad way to phrase it. Reverse. 

"Huh...?"

Reverse fast. 

"You're hot, you're rich, and you travel all over the world." Catra says it like it's the most obvious thing in the world - because _duh,_ isn't it? "I'm sure there have been plenty of women who've wanted to fuck you, but you only did one?"

"I kind of regret when I did it the first time…and I… I haven't really met anyone I wanted to do this with besides you…"

Ah shit, how does Adora do that? 

_Besides Catra._

How does she do that every damn time? 

It's going to kill Catra one of these days. If Adora hadn't said that, Catra might've gotten off of her. She's staring up with those dumb blue eyes. There's that tightness in her chest. Suddenly, the situation seems less uncertain and more...sweet.

"... You really want to do this, huh." 

"Yes, i-if you still want me. Even I… Even if I suck." Adora's face floods with anticipation. "Please." 

Fuck. How can Catra say no to that? 

Well. The short of it is that she can't. It's probably impossible. This is definitely going to be a lot more different than expected. But alright. 

First she has to get this idiot relaxed - idiot who notices Catra's resolve breaking. Idiot who looks so very relieved, so very excited, and so, so very nervous. 

Relax. 

For real this time. 

"Hm…" Sigh, more for thematic effect. "Alright. You sure have a way of making a girl feel special, Adora." Catra gives in, continuing down the blonde's body, leaving a trail of affection left, right and center. It's like she never stopped. A harsh nip on one of Adora's hip bones, then Catra's resumes pulling her pants - and underwear - down. The act forces her much farther away than she'd like to be. "I'm going to go slow. Just for you. Something simple, so why don't you relax, okay?"

Slow and simple is for Catra too, honestly. 

But it's easier if she pins it on Adora.

Even simpler than that, it's easier if she pins Adora. 

"Slow?" Is she disappointed? 

"Slow isn't bad, idiot." If so, she needs a reminder. "Why do you think I like you?" 

_"Hey-"_

"No more talking." The last two obstacles are off. Fuck...she's beautiful. Catra kisses pale calves, then thighs, slowly moving back up to rest just below Adora's hips. 

Adora shuts up. Completely. 

"Not literally. I'm going to need feedback, genius."

"Uhh, what am I supposed to say?"

"Whatever comes to mind." Catra's eyes are not fixated on Adora's face anymore. But, "Put your head down."

"Why? _Oh-"_

Catra purposefully kisses just beside Adora's core, and that serves as motive enough for the blonde to drop her head back into the mattress. She’s quivering. Catra can make that better, but first it’s going to get a whole lot worse. 

"You know how fucking sexy you are?" Hushed, almost against Adora's skin. Catra's breath alone has Adora instinctively clutching at the bed sheets. "How stupidly gorgeous." 

_Slow._

She uses her thumb to leisurely massage Adora's clit. It doesn't take long to figure out what makes Adora tick. Thirty seconds of unhurried stimulation, and Catra's teasing is already replaced by stifled stutters and half curses. 

Adora stops herself from completing them. Barely. 

_How cute._

Another rough kiss just beside Adora's sex, but this time on the other side. Sudden. Lips so close, Adora tries to push her hips up, but Catra immediately pins them back down. She doesn't let go either, because it's here she chooses to taste.

Another attempt at a jut. Another try for Catra to shut down. She holds her lover firm, moving closer and experimentally sliding her tongue across the whole of Adora's folds. So slick, Adora wants her. 

_"S-Shit…!"_

Oh? Never mind, look at those morals go right out the window. Maybe Catra should get a swear jar when they do this again. She'd probably make a lot of money just with that. 

"So sensitive." Catra purrs. "You going to keep making this hard on me?"

"N-No- no, sorry I-"

A much stronger roll of her tongue, and Adora's words fail her. She tries again, but it's just not going to happen. Catra buries herself between those thighs. Working almost methodically to wind, unwind, then wind this beautiful woman. The overpowering thrusts gone, Adora settles for slowly grinding her hips, which allows Catra's hands to move elsewhere. They skate deliberately across her thighs, digging here and there. 

Anything to elicit a louder gasp. 

"Catra…ahhn..."

Even up to Adora's stomach, somewhere that will definitely need more attention. 

"Oh God..."

 _"Don'tfankhimfrthis."_ Muffled.

He has nothing to do with this. There's no reason to bring him up. Catra works hard to maintain this kind of skill, thanks. 

Adora's thighs are already tensing, coming undone remarkably quickly, isn't she? Pride. Swelling pride. It urges Catra to push further, deeper, even bringing a hand back down to rub Adora's clit in that way she already knows works beautifully. 

_Adora needs her._

Those hips are rocking again. Uncontrolled. Someone is swearing, but it's not clear who. Either way, it's hushed. 

_If only Adora's legs were over Catra's shoulders, she could literally push her to her limit._

Catra's eyes move upwards to see that Adora is trying to sit up, flushed, biting down on her lip and gazing through loving eyes. "Catra, I-"

Catra pushes her tongue right against Adora's entrance, then, briefly _in_ \- and Adora collapses back onto the bed, muscles clenching every inch of Catra's upper body. Adora gives into the bliss with a short cry. Short, but beautiful. 

_Happy._

Catra lets her finish, using a much softer technique until Adora's trembling thighs finally, finally still. Then, she rests her chin on Adora's lower abdominals, watching her lover with a smirk. 

"Come here…" Almost a groan. "Please..." 

Please is the magic word, and so Catra obeys, crawling over Adora's body and finally getting a proper look at her face. "Hey there."

Her gorgeous face. "Hi…"

"You're a little noisy, aren't you?"

"Shut up…"

Awfully rude for Adora. Catra briefly kisses her before relaxing down on the side. "Uh huh, you know I was the quiet one."

A mumbled reply. Adora doesn't give any other indication she's moving anytime soon. Deep breathing. Trying to collect herself probably. Honestly, making her writhe again is already sounding good.

So, "If you want, I can continue." 

"N-No!" Surprisingly quick, and Adora sounds offended. Adorable. "I want to- I want to make you happy too."

_She wants to make her happy too._

Shit...

Talk about bringing Catra to get knees. Sort of, not exactly with their current positioning - but that's okay. 

"Well…" Catra clears her throat. "I'm not stopping you." 

Really, she's not.

It's Adora who is stopping Adora. It's like she wasn't expecting Catra to let her. She looks sweaty. But most importantly, she's not moving - again. 

"Any time now, princess." 

"... Princess?"

"Yeah, pillow princess. 'Cause you haven't done anything." A teasing nudge. A little one. A teeny, tiny...little nudge. 

"I'm NOT a pillow princess!!!"

"Whatever you say, pr-"

Which works fantastically, because Adora takes the opportunity to flip them. Catra isn't really sure how she did it so fast. Probably her athleticism. 

Whatever it was, _good._

Or-... Or not?

Catra realizes she probably shouldn't have assumed that would be enough. The momentary burst of confidence is gone. 

And Adora is pulling away. "Sorry! I should've- I-" 

"Christ, Adora." Catra grabs her wrists to hold her in place. "Getting you going was the point."

"Oh. Um… Do I…"

"Take my pants and underwear off. Then, why don't you start with your hands this time."

Adora's hands tremble as she pulls them down. 

Like, they tremble a lot. 

Shit. she was nervous before, but this is worse. Catra helps remove the clothing - unsure what to expect. She's even about to suggest something, maybe a break to reassess whether Adora is up for this - when she suddenly presses down on Catra's clit. 

_Fuck, she wasn't lying._

No joke. Too quick. Too uncertain. Sensitive in all the wrong ways. Awkward and almost painful. She's probably treating this like it's herself, but someone has to show her how sex is different than masturbating. Yeah, someone has to be patient. Someone has to communicate. 

That someone is going to have to be Catra, because this is as much on her as it is on Adora. She probably took the teasing too far...so here goes nothing. 

Catra sits up about seventy percent of the way, then reaches down and places her hand over top Adora's. The blonde flinches. Unexpected. "H-Huh? Am I not- what are you-"

"I'm helping." More than expected, but that's okay. "You wanted to talk through this, so get your face up here."

Adora gulps with a small nod. Catra keeps holding her hand low as the rest of Adora moves closer, body radiating heat between Catra's thighs, until their faces almost touch. 

"You want to make me happy, right?"

"Yes." 

Catra gazes into shimmering eyes. The rest of her focus, however, goes to Adora's fingers - which she delicately maneuvers into a better position, a little to the side compared to before. "I like to start _here._ Now," Husky, and it's Adora who shudders when Catra starts her fingers in a circular motion. "Go slow."

Adora obeys without question. Mimicking the movements, good, and drawing a pleased sigh from Catra - although the latter still keeps her hand on top, just in case. 

Slick.

Better. Compared to before, at least. 

"Can I move...uhhh around…?"

"You can." 

Soon, she's cautiously exploring the rest of Catra's folds. Gingerly testing everything she finds. Still not certain, but hopeful. 

"Here...?" 

"Not exactly, maybe a little-" 

"What about that?" 

"Try- _oh…!"_

That was something - but now it's gone. Adora already moved past it. 

"And this?" 

_Now hold on a minute._

Catra reestablishes a firm hold on Adora's hand. "Back," Swiftly guiding her fingers to that spot she just passed. Yes. "Nnn… Keep going there…"

Frankly, this is probably the most patient Catra has ever been. But it's easy. Adora massages into increasing wetness, pressing down harder than Catra expected. This time though, it's good. Managed. The addition causes Catra's hips to jerk.

For the first time, Adora's eyes fully come alive. Her mouth hangs open, dumb and sweet, just like her. She's so busy watching, she actually forgets to continue. 

"Adora." 

Another press.

Another small involuntary lurch. 

Yet another finger travels lower, dangerously so, to investigate. An unfair tease that Adora probably doesn't even realize she's doing, but Catra knows herself well. 

_That's wet enough._

"Try…" For a final time, Catra leads Adora where she wants. "Try that, but keep your thumb outside." 

Somewhere new. 

Something very new. 

"Are you sure?" 

Catra releases Adora's hand. It's not shaking anymore. "Yes. Stop being so polite." 

Adora takes a second, probably to calm her nerves. But soon enough, she's slowly pushing a finger inside...observing Catra while biting her lip. A short gasp, and Catra pushes her hips down to reassure her lover. 

Still, it's so cautious. 

Like Adora afraid of hurting her.

"Another," Catra whispers. "And _move them."_

Another it is, and do they ever move. 

This is good. This is steady. Catra starts to melt into it, beginning to lay down to relax her back into the mattress - until Adora's free hand comes around to support her pseudo sitting position. "Stay. Please. Just for a second." She leans in to kiss Catra, fingers firmly pumping. 

_Catra whimpers. Stupid._

Of course, that kills the kiss. "Are you okay???"

"Yes, just- f-fuck…!"

 _There._ Whatever the fuck that was. 

There's no hiding that. Not that Catra would try, but the effect ripples. Catra's thighs squeeze Adora's hand and wrist. 

Ever vigilant, Adora pushes right back into there. Catra shudders, needily grasping at the blonde's shoulders. The contact doesn't last long. Catra feels herself finally being tipped over onto the mattress, and she loses her grip. Adora is above her. Further away. 

_There. There. There._

But it's a better angle. 

"Adora-" 

"Good…?!?" Another short thrust, more forceful. 

"Y-Yeahhfff…uck…" And now Catra is the one shaking. 

Confidence built, Adora presses close to Catra's body, kissing her stomach. "Let me take care of you." 

Fuck. 

Finding what's right is such a bitch, isn't it? 

Finding the right words.

Finding the right time.

Finding the right way. 

_Finding the right person._

But look. 

Adora - inside, straining herself to make Catra feel loved. Flexing her arm muscle. Sweating. Whenever Catra focuses on something other than her own pleasure, she can see Adora watching her every move. Nothing has ever felt so perfect. 

Adora abruptly slows to curl her fingers. 

Oh fuck. 

Catra can't stop the whine, hips stuttering.

"You like it when I do that, huh!" 

Save the fucking dirty talk. Like she has any idea what that is. Cocky, of course she had to- _fuckkk._

There's three, back into rhythm and a definite build. 

_Undeniable._

Catra reaches up to wrap her arms around Adora's shoulders, allowing her to do whatever it is her heart desires. Her heart must desire to be closer, because Catra's throat is a heated bliss. Adora is kissing her neck. Copycat. 

"More," A particularly well placed thrust. Shit... she can actually hear it. "T-Teeth." 

_"... Teeth?"_

"Yes... F-Fuck…"

She need not say more. 

Okay, actually- God damn that is a lot of teeth. Zero or one hundred with Adora. Catra will fix that later, because _fuck, it's happening._

It's pushing her over the edge. It's not a scream, or loud swearing. No relentless bucking. No obvious warning at all. In fact, it almost never is. 

Because Catra isn't just going to do any of that. 

She isn't dramatic like that. 

The motion below is perfect. She feels her whole body tense, and her grip on Adora's shoulders turns to iron. The fire below spreads into a tingling warmth - a quick rage, and a slow fall. But the perfect sensation is somehow made even better when she realizes Adora is paying her all the attention in the world. 

"Here, I'm here." Adora's fingers coax a final few pulses to release - then she leans in, kissing Catra's lips until the climax fades. 

Catra's hold on Adora's skin eventually disappears. Her arms drop to the sheets, and so Adora settles back down next to her, pulling Catra close to her body. 

She buries her face into Adora's bare chest. 

_Need._

But it's Adora who speaks. "Thank you for helping me." 

"I- I can do more to you too… Give me a minute… This is just a break…" Catra sighs shaky breath into that sensitive skin. 

"You don't have to move too fast. I want you here. You're beautiful..."

"... Don't get mushy."

"I didn't know I could do that to you." 

"Dooon't." She kisses Adora's chest to quiet her.

It works for… Five seconds? 

"Are we going to do this again…?"

Catra literally just offered. That's it, she pulls her face away from Adora's chest. "Let me on top and we can."

"No- I mean yes. But," She's got the stupidest little smile. "After you move. Can I visit?"

Oh? So she wants to talk, _one of those kinds of talks, for real._ Greaaat timing. Catra isn't going to let her off easy for that. 

"Hmm, I haven't decided. Not sure how I feel about clingy." Yeah yeah, that's the pot calling the kettle black- whatever. It's a joke. 

"I'll go back to the Fright Zone if you don't tell me. You'll have to save me all over again." 

Catra rolls her eyes. "You're kidding me, I don't want you dead."

"You don't?"

"Stupid rich blonde girl gets murdered at shady club. It'd be everywhere, never leave the news. I'd probably get questioned." 

"Okay," Adora chuckles. "Well that's dark. But seriously, do I get to know?"

"Yeah, idiot. In fact, you can help me haul my shit there." 

Win-win. 

"And Catra? I had another thought." Wow, _another_ one. On a roll today. 

"Hm?"

"Assuming this becomes a thing…" She's smiling so stupidly wide. "We should also have some places to go besides yours or mine."

_That's very true._

"Like, I'm not talking about places to make love," Ew, why does she have to call it that? Well, of course Adora would call it that. But still… Catra is going to have to live with that, isn't she? "We need somewhere to go to spend time with each other. My place, even your place, those'll get stale. Maybe few more spots for dates too, you know, before we-"

"Yep, I got it. Before we have sex." 

"Yeah! So how about dinner? At an actual restaurant, it doesn't rain inside those, and I can pay."

"We're at least three months away from me agreeing to restaurants." And that's generous. 

_But there are plenty of places downtown they could try that are cheaper. Adora makes a fair point…_

"Okay! I'll get a reservation somewhere in three months." Not even phased. "I'll think of something else in the meantime. What about meeting up with the old group? Maybe one or two of them?"

"Yeah, I don't know about that." Adora is stupid. They knew better. 

"Whew, alright. No double dates then?"

That's why she asked? Shit, now Catra feels guilty. "Wait, I-... I don't mean to actually fuck up your plans." Sigh. Who can she deal with…? "Maybe… Maybe we can meet up with Scorpia. I'll tolerate Perfuma. We could check out some of the art shit downtown or something." 

Adora couldn't look any happier. 

"That- that sounds great, Catra. Thank you."

That's enough of that, though. If she keeps going, she's going to be planning what color drywall they'll have someday. 

"Hey," Catra completely changes her tone, dipping back into flirty. Adora immediately turns pink. "Let's stop planning the future. How awake are you right now, princess?"

"Very awake." It's good Adora gets the name is a joke, but she might sing another tune once she realizes it's going to stick. 

"In that case, I've got something else I want to try." 

Catra returns to tease Adora's neck, her hands ghosting over her body. Ticklish on purpose. Adora laughs. "H-Hey!"

"What? I'm not doing anything. Not yet."

Catra smiles against Adora's neck.

Feeling the giggles.

Safe.

Catra lets out a sigh of relief that she's been holding on for over a month now.

She can let herself have this. 

She can let Adora have her.

Catra's heartrate picks up.

_Ba-dum…_

_Ba-dum…_

Ba-dum.

-

_… Two fifty seven am…_

Don't ever let anyone say that things can't be perfect, because they're wrong. They don't understand. 

Things can never _stay_ perfect. Sure, they twist, and they taint. 

Life is painful.

Even the best communication is an act of blind faith. 

There will always be problems. 

Forgiveness is always hard, whichever way it goes. 

And truly connecting is harder than anything else. 

For these reasons, facing tomorrow will be difficult. 

Nevertheless, the truth is that things can be perfect. Even Catra knows it. Because right now? 

At this exact moment? 

_… Catra is awake. Never in her life did she ever imagine she would be in this situation. Not only in bed with, but also fully in love with Adora Brightmoon. She holds tighter to Adora's torso, her fingers glossing over warm skin. Her lover comes to embrace her back, offering a soft and drowsy whisper. A murmur of something that Catra can't quite make out, yet thinks she might understand._

_And so come the words she so dearly wants to say, "I love you, Adora."_

_"Mmmlrv...yuhtoo."_

Well...

Everything is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback should go both ways, don't you think?
> 
> I want to sincerely thank you all for supporting this story. I thank those who were here since chapter 1, and I also thank those who jumped aboard along the way. This the first "long-ish" fic I've ever posted, and it was a blast sharing it with _each and every one of you._
> 
> Authors may write stories for fun, but oftentimes, it's our readers that help us shape them. At its core, writing is about connection. Community is the root of storytelling. So, you should know that it has been your appreciation, your enthusiasm, and your shared love for this piece that made it what it is. 
> 
> If you enjoyed the story, and if you're comfortable, I'd love to hear from you before we part. You probably already know this, but unless I accidentally miss a comment, I always reply.
> 
> If you aren't comfortable, no pressure. You've still been fantastic and I wish you well. It's been a pleasure.
> 
> I am sure you'll see me around.
> 
> Thank you so much, everybody! 
> 
> And до свидания!
> 
> :)


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